A Stitch in Time
by LenisVox
Summary: When Carmen awakes one morning to find a strange man who claims to be the Phantom of the Opera tangled in her shower curtains, she suspects that she's been the butt of some stupid joke, but as she learns more about "Shower Curtains Man", she realizes he m
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: We ALL know that I don't 'The Phantom of the Opera' in any of this forms. Trust me, it's a want I must cope with every day….

Perhaps the whole 'put the phantom in college' thing is a bit overdone, but trust me, this won't be like any of the others. If it is, then you can all flame until I'm just a smoldering pile of ashes on the floor, but wait a few chapters before you gather the torches, okay?

I'm going to base Erik and his past off of the Phantom from the movie, not because I've got anything against the book, (au contraire, in fact), but because I'm not completely finished reading it, and don't want to mess anything up too badly.

Chapter One: Freaky Roommates Ye Be Warned.

It was moving day, and all hell had long since broken loose. The campus was flooded with mini moving vans, crying mothers, and people carrying heavy objects, and Carmen was ashamed to admit that she had brought with her all of the above… and more. Not only was her mother going to pieces before her eyes, but her younger sisters were arguing about the restaurants they would eat at on the way back from campus, and her father was lecturing her (for what must have been the millionth time) about college life, finals, boys, parties, etc…

"…Never drink anything that has been opened out of your sight….." he rambled.

" Yeah, Dad. That's great. You do know I've got this speech memorized, right?" she sighed.

" I don't want you to come home pregnant!" he snapped.

Carmen rolled her eyes. " I won't." she said flatly.

And with that, her father launched into another lecture about drinking, rape, and homework… Her sisters bickered about McDonalds, and her mother rummaged through the rented U-Haul for a Kleenex.

She never been more relieved than when she'd placed the last of her possessions in her dorm, and her parents were deprived of their final excuse not to leave. They'd wanted to meet her roommate, but they hadn't showed up yet, so Carmen was finally able to convince them to start off their drive back to Wisconsin…

Her roommate arrived later that night, or to be more exact, early the next morning, as it was 2 a.m., alone and with even more boxes than Carmen had brought.

" Would you mind waiting 'till a reasonable hour to unpack those?" grumbled Carmen as her roommate, whom she couldn't see in the darkness, started rummaging noisily through the boxes.

" But this _is_ a reasonable hour!" came a voice from the darkness that likened more to a cackle than to an actual voice. "Nighttime is a time of energy and wonder…"

"Not when you've been up all bloody day!"

No response….. More rummaging….. Then a candle's flickering light gave Carmen her first good look of her new roommate. She groaned… her roommate was ghostly pale, with waist-length black hair, tons of black eyeliner, and a set of black… robes?

_Great, she was rooming with Morticia Adams! _

" Put out the damn candle and go to sleep!" she nearly shouted.

There was no response, save for some humming and chanting. Too tired for a battle, Carmen made an angry noise and tried to block out the noise with her pillow… She would be speaking with the Dean about a room-change, that was certain!

The next morning, Her roommate was gone, as were her possessions. A notice on her night stand told her that her roommate had opted for a private room, so Carmen would have the room to herself at no extra cost!

"Woot! Woot! Do the happy-dance! Do the happy-dance! Happy! Happy! Hap….."

Her little "dance" was interrupted by a loud THUD from her private bathroom (a wonderful commodity included in all of the University's dorms), followed by a clatter and some cursing. When she ran to investigate, she discovered a man tangled in her shower curtains. His attempts to free himself were not at all helped by the long, black cape he wore, but the cape was not the only strange thing about him. Perhaps the strangest thing about him was the white mask that covered half of his otherwise handsome face.

"…..What the hell?" Why couldn't Carmen's father have lectured her on how to deal with strange men in her shower curtains…. Strange men with very colorful vocabularies…

The man jumped backward and tripped into her bathtub when she spoke.

" Who are you?" he demanded.

" I think you should be the one to introduce yourself, as it's my bathroom you've tangled yourself in."

The man gave Carmen a surprised look. " You don't know who I am?" he asked.

" Some geek from the drama department, dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, coming to welcome me to the arts department?" True, the admissions people had said that music majors were welcomed gladly at their campus, but this couldn't possibly be what they'd meant… If they did this to everyone, they'd lose a fortune buying everyone new shower curtains.

Finally disentangling himself, the man stood up, only to hit his head on the showerhead.

"I know nothing of this arts department of which you speak, but I _am_ the Phantom of the Opera." he said, clearly expecting Carmen to make some show of fear.

"You're mental if you think I'm dumb enough to believe you." she said, giving him a look that quite clearly said 'Get out of my bathroom'. "How'd you get in here, anyways? Wasn't my door locked?"

" Fine, don't believe me. I certainly do not need to prove myself to the likes of you. As for my entrance, I don't know how I arrived here, but I _do _know that I intend on exiting immediately, so stand aside, woman."

Carmen glared at the man. The moron simply wouldn't give up! Even as her favorite literary character of all time, this idiot was not going to get away with speaking to her like that, even if it was in the phantom's character to do so!

Her cheeks flushed in anger, she followed him down the hallway, hoping to find out his dorm, and thus figure out who the hell he was. But to her surprise, he strode out of the heavy front doors of the Victorian-styled dorm building.

Perhaps he was in a fraternity… In which case this was probably a very stupid prank.

No, he was walking away from the frat houses, and crossing the street.

" Hey, brainiac!" she called after him, "That's a red light! You can't cross yet!"

It was no good. He didn't hear her. He just kept walking, head bowed against the morning's wind, oblivious to the oncoming traffic.

"Stop!" she screamed, sprinting after him.

A semi truck's horn blared. The man was going to get hit!

"MOVE!"

The man's head turned too late. The truck was upon him! Carmen jumped for him, knocking him out of the truck's path. But now, it was her in the semi's path!

She felt the semi upon her, heard the horn's blaring….The two headlights were the last things she saw. Then, everything went black…

When Carmen woke up, she was certain she was flying. Well, her feet weren't touching the ground, that was. Then she realized she was being carried…. On a stretcher? No, stretchers weren't warm and muscular. It was shower curtains man… why was he carrying her? She was dead…. Wasn't she? Only one way to find out, she figured.

"Am I dead?" she asked weakly.

" You'd better not be." the man who claimed to be the phantom replied, "Because if you are, then I'm hearing voices from corpses."

Carmen laughed a little. "Hey, put me down." she commanded.

"No. You need to see a doctor."

She groaned. What had happened to her? Would she be okay? Forcing herself to move, Carmen brought her head up to look at her body. To her great relief, it wasn't mangled in any way, just a few cuts and bruises.

"I'm fine. Just take me back to my dorm."

The man lowered her carefully onto the grass and looked intently upon her. Gently, he raised a finger and tapped her lightly on the forehead. Pain seared from the spot he'd touched.

"Did that hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

What kind of a psycho _was_ this guy!

"Tell me, mademoiselle, what is your name?"

"Carmen…" she groaned, grateful that it was too early in the morning for anyone to be about yet. She just wanted to be let alone right now.

"I'm Erik." he said softly.

"Ha! I knew you weren't really the phantom…"

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, you need to tell me how to get to the erm… I believe you called them dorms."

If Carmen had been fully conscious, she would've hit the manErik. He was _still_ trying to keep up his damn act! Instead of doing so, however, she went along with it and simply directed him back to her room, where he set her down on the futon sofa that was set up below her loft bed.

"Thank you." she said quietly.

" I believe it is I who should thank you. You saved my life."

"You're welcome."

Erik rummaged around in her room until he found her washcloths. "Where could I find some water?" he asked.

Carmen didn't even bother to tell him to drop the act this time. She just told him to use the sink. True he was taking this "Phantom of the Opera" thing way too far, but she had to admit that he was playing the part extremely well. Not once had he forgotten to not know anything the phantom wouldn't have known.

Erik came back with a bowl of water and dabbed lightly at her bruised head.

As he did so, Carmen let a few theatrical tears slide down her cheek. Perhaps she was a music major, but that didn't mean she didn't know how to act.

"Carmen, am I hurting you?"

"No. I'm just so confused…. Please, just tell me the truth. Who are you?"

Sorry that chapter was so long. I should have the next one, which will probably be quite a bit shorter, up in a few days, or even later today, depending on how long it takes before I fall asleep on my keyboard.

P.S I LOVE reviews! hint, hint

P.P.S Just so you know, Carmen's character is based off of a bunch of people, (yes, I am one of those people) and this phic will be Erik/Carmen.

P.P.P.S A pregnant goldfish is called a twit. :D


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own it sighs sadly, but Carmen and all other none Phantom of the Opera characters are mine, though. Mine! My own! My precoiusssssssssss!

Many thanks to all who reveiwed chapter uno!

Alot of people were asking stuff like how Eric got into the future and stuff. Don't worry, all of that will be answered very soon (as in, in either this chapter or chapter three), and don't worry, Songwind! The mask will play a more important part in this chapter. The only reason it wasn't in the first chapter more is that most of that chapter occurs in a timespan of about a half an hour (tops), so Carmen hasn't really digested the fact that he might not be some geek in a costume, so the mask hasn't been any weirder than the rest of Erik's ensamble.

I'm really, really sorry about the stupidly long time it took me to update, particullarly after I said I'd have this chapter up the day after chapter one came. First, I was plauged by writer's block, and then my dad went and rearanged our home networking system, crashing the internet in the process. It's all fixed now, so I think we can realisticly expect chapter three to be up in about a week, give or take a few days.

Also, I know I might be marring a few facts, both from the movie and from real life, but in order to eliminate some big problems, the facts must be marred. I could get around marring them if I had to, but it would detract from the story, so marred they shall be.

* * *

Chapter Two: The Truth at Last

Carmen could almost see the cogs turning in Erik's head. She didn't see what was so hard about telling the simplest of truths. He knew who she was, so why the hell was he being such an idiot? Didn't he trust her by now?

Erik sighed. "How can I convince you that I'm not lying to you? Besides, you think _you're_ confused, I don't even know where I am, or how I got here."

Then, Carmen had an idea.

"Take off the mask." she said, hoping that the tone of her voice would communicate to Erik that this was _not_ a request.

"What?" he asked, backing away from her a bit.

" You heard me. Take it off." she repeated. "If you really _were _the Phantom of the Opera, you'd be malformed beneath the mask."

"But..."

" Do you want me to beleive you or not? I just got hit by a semi while saving your sorry ass from becoming road pizza! I think you owe it to me to show me who I saved!"

"FINE!" Erik roared. He stood up and ripped off the mask, revealing something that reminded Carmen of pictures of bombing victims she'd seen on the news. She tried not to look too frightened or horrified, but judging by the sad and ashamed look on Erik's face, she could tell she'd done a bad job of it.

"_This_", he sighed Is why I must wear the mask."

"It's not really all that bad."Carmen observed. " A good plastic surgeon could fix that fairly easily."

Inside, Carmen flinched. She let her guard down. She'd made it seem like she beleived him. If there ever was a time for him to break out of character and laugh mercilessly at her, now was it... But Erik wasn't laughing. Instead, he was staring at her with unparalleled interest.

"Before you go on, which you most certainly will," he began slowly, " You must first answer me a few questions. First, do you beleive me now?"

" I beleive as much as you could possibly"

"Yes or no?"

Carmen paused for a moment, "Yes." she answered finally.

"Good. Now, where are we?"

"Were in Cincinnati, Ohio, at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music.."

"The nation of Ohio, you say?"

" No, the _state_ of Ohio, in the nation of the United States of America."

"What year is it?"

" Two thousand five."

Erik made a funny choking sound and fell off the sofa... "Two thousand five!" he finally managed.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah."

It was a while before Erik recovered from the shock. " So, what has happened in the past century and a half that's worth telling me about?"

"Well, the British Empire collapsed, we've had two world wars, the United States is now the world's most powerful nation, and we've invented the internet, a wonderful aspect of life which I will introduce you to later."

Erik nodded. "And do you have any idea how I ended up here?"

Carmen shrugged. "None whatsoever."

"...Back to that plastic surgery thing, you said it could fix my face?"

"Without a doubt. I've seen them fix things alot bigger and alot worse than what you've got-"

"-And how does one go about one of these plastic surgeries?" he interrupted her, clearly eager for an explanation.

" You go to a doctor and make an appointment. Then, probably about a month later, you go in, they'll put you to sleep wth a drug called anastesia, and then I'm not really sure what they do, but when you wake up, your face would look normal... well actually, It'll be all bruised and puffy for a few weeks, and _then_ it'll look normal. The only downside is that it's rather costly... I don't know how you'd get the money... because I certainly can't afford it."

"Yes, I suppose that could be a problem..." Erik was silent for a few miniutes, apparently deep in thought. After a while, he looked up at her. "Do you know what the Bank of Paris does with accounts that have been innactive for centuries?"

"I imagine they'd be terminated, but it's worth checking into." Carmen went over to her computer, her vision was still a bit blurry from her blow to the head, but she could walk on her own.

As it turned out, the bank of London did terminate accounts after they'd been innactive for a certain amount of time, and Erik's acount had probably been gone for more than a hundred years.

"Damn!" he'd swore upon their finding this. "Well, so much leaving inheritance for whoever found my lair..."

_Inheritance!_ The word sparked a memory for Carmen. When her grandmother had, died, she'd left her a quarter of her estate, which was a sum of about a quarter of a million dollars. Now that she was legally an adult, she money was hers..."On second thought, Erik, I think I might be able to help you out..."

(Meanwhile...)

* * *

"Did the spell work?"

The man paced in front of Stella, his leather boots clicking on her bare floor. True, he was the love of her life, but he was still a demanding leader, and being his lover did not gain her any favor amongst the Association of the Gifted. To gain the next rank, the coveted position of master chaneller, she would have to succesfully bring someone from the past back to life, just like any other candidate.

" I don't know." she replied. " My damned roomate broke my meditation, so it would have had a delayed effect."

" Then perhaps it would be prudent to pay her a visit and discover if there have been any unusual occurances recently."

"Yes." she nodded in agreement, "That would be an excellent idea. I shall do so immediately."

* * *

Carmen nervously twirled a peice of her long, maple syrup colored, hair around her finger. Erik was grinning uncontrollably, and she didn't blame him. It finally looked as though the infliction that had plauged him all of his life would be lifted, and he had every right to be happy, but Carmen couldn't figure out why she was so eager to help this man, whom she'd known only for a few hours, and hadn't even trusted untill a few miniutes ago. For some reason, she felt like she'd known Erik for years. But then again, hadn't she? Perhaps she'd only known him on a face-to-face basis for a few hours, but she'd always felt attatched to his character in the book, and even more so to his slightly more likeable character from the movie, whom he seemed to resemble more, both in appearence and personality.

A wave of nausia interrupted Carmen's thoughts , and she was forced to sit back down on her futon sofa with Erik. Her head was still spinning, so, more out of curiousity than of a need to lie down, she laid her head on Erik's shoulder. To her surprise (and releif), he didn't move away or give her an odd look. Actually, he looked rather amused.

The girl was quite a gem, Erik thought. She'd saved his life, and now she was willing to help him again. Words, he decided, were too weak to describe the gratitude he felt towards her, so instead of saying anything, he merely placed an arm around her and allowed her to fall asleep on his shoulder.

There was a knock at the door, but Erik didn't want to answer, so her gently laid Carmen down on the sofa, and crept silently over to the door.. and locked it. After what seemed like an eternity, the knocking stopped, and he heard someone walk away.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: You know the drill, people. I own nothing except for the clothes on my back... and a bunch of other stuff. 

kristinekat13: I know Erik wouldn't be Erik without his deformities... and that's all I'm saying... only this and nothing more... quoth the authoress, nevermore! (hehehe! Edgar Allan Poe rocks!)

Notes and Such: I know that as of now, this story really isn't all that humorous for something with a secondary genre of humor, but I assure you, once the plot is set in motion, it WILL get funnier, I just hate to completely marr Erik's character, and it's very difficult to write a humor story with a main character who's all brooding and angsty... very difficult indeed.

I must apologize once again for the amount of time between updates. I'm afraid I have no excuse this time, either. I have the next few chapter s written out, now, so updates should come much sooner from now on. Please don't hurt me!

Ah yes, and now that I've finished reading the book for the second time, I think I'll be basing a lot more of my story on that, instead of on the movie, like I'd originally planned.

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, even though I took forever to post it! And thanks in advance to all those who review next chapter. You guys are the best!

* * *

Chapter Three: The Guests

Carmen slept for what must have been at least six hours, but Erik got bored after five minutes staring at the ceiling and wondering that he was doing here, in some foreign place in a foreign time... He felt horribly vulnerable here, without an opera house full of people absolutely petrified of him, without his secret abode, deep beneath the stage he haunted, and most of all, without the sense of power and security he felt in being absolutely assured that he knew EVERYTHING going on around him.

But until his hostess woke up, there wasn't much he could do about his situation, so he resigned to searching Carmen's bookcase for an interesting read. She had rather excellent taste in literature, he decided, upon realizing that most of her collection was comprised mostly of the timeless classics he'd been living off of for most of his life. He almost started reading 'The Phantom of the Opera', by Gaston Leroux, undoubtedly the book Carmen knew him from, but realized after reading the first page that it was about the events concerning Miss Daae... a wound that was, for now, too raw to reopen. He replaced the book on the shelf and continued his search for something he hadn't read... With some amusement, he pulled three books, clearly there for reasons of sentiment, which had been authored an illustrated by a young Carmen Lenoir... 'A Home for a Guinea Pig', 'My Family', and 'Norman and his Mother' (which appeared to feature two manatees). It took him less than ten minutes to read them, but they certainly served as entertainment as he had himself a good laugh at Carmen's expense. This only lasted so long, however, as he was soon searching for something else, preferably something a bit longer, when he noticed that one book was turned with the spine facing towards the back of the book shelf, as though whoever had put it there had not wanted to be reminded of it's presence. Of course, Erik had to read it.

The book turned out to be authored by a man called Steven king, and Erik found himself entranced by the pure scariness of it. Of course, a man who'd lived in the catacombs of a Parisian operahouse for most of his life was hardly one to be daunted by ghost stories, but it still proved to be an interesting read, one that kept him entertained until Carmen finally awoke that afternoon.

" Have a nice sleep?" he asked, not looking up from the book.

"Oh. You're reading that, are you? Well, I suppose it wouldn't bother you as it does me."

" I was wondering why it was turned backwards..."

Carmen yawned and rubbed the weariness from her eyes. " I don't like horror stories, but looking at it tempts me to read it." she explained. " Is it any good?"

" Yes."

" Would you like something to eat?"

" I'm fine, but if you're hungry, by all means, I don't mind."

Suddenly, the door burst open, causing them both to start. And two women burst in, one tall with straight, waist-length, black hair, the other short with curly auburn hair that went a few inches below her shoulders. " Helloo Poisson d'Avril!", they sang.

" Ava, Jessica!" cried Carmen happily, " I thought you two weren't coming until tomorrow.

" Yes, well we got bored so we came early." said the taller one.

Meanwhile, Erik was trying his hardest to disappear behind the book, but to no avail.

" Well, Erik, this is Ava," Carmen motioned towards the girl who had spoken before, " And Jessica." she motioned towards the other. "And this is Erik."she said to the others.

Erik tried even harder to disappear, not particularly relishing the idea of trying to prove himself to two more skeptics.

" So, Erik, were you just at, like, a freakishly early Halloween party or something?" Ava asked, looking very much like she was trying to hold an imaginary monacle in place.

" I'm afraid not.", Erik sighed. Well, Carmen's friends may not have saved his life, but he was fairly certain that he was going to be seeing a lot of these two in the future, so perhaps it would be best for him to reveal his identity to them, as he wished not to have to make up foolish excuses and false pasts and such...

" Then why are you dressed like Zorro?"

Carmen looked at her friends, got up, and closed the door (making certain it was locked). " Jess, Ava, do you promise not to laugh at me when I tell you this?"

They both nodded. Clearly, this was important.

" Okay, we have no idea how any of this happened, but somehow Erik ended up in my bathroom this morning, having come all the way from nineteenth century France." Carmen whispered.

" Are you trying to say that Erik really _is_ Zorro?" Jessica asked.

" Zorro is neither from France, nor the nineteenth century." Carmen said flatly. " Erik is the Phantom of the Opera."

" You're mad!"

" I believe that's exactly what Carmen said when I tried to tell her the same thing." Erik said matter-of-factly.

"Fine." Jessica said, crossing her arms. "Where's Christine's ring?"

Erik blanched. Must they ask for the one piece of evidence he could not offer them? " I'm afraid I don't have it." he said, " I gave it back to Christine until I am to be buried."

" Ha!" cried Jessica. " She gives it to you before she leaves with Raoul! You should have it!"

" Actually," Carmen, began, pulling the original novel from it's place on the bookshelf, "The movie messed that part up. Read this." She found the part in the book where Erik had shown up on the Persian's front steps and told him of the terms of Christine's release, where he stated that he'd given Christine back her ring and said she was to bury it with him when he died.

" Well, you could just be obsessed with the book." Ava pointed out.

" Can't you just trust my word?" Erik sighed.

" And mine." Carmen added.

There was silence as the two thought it over. " Show us what's behind the mask, and then we'll believe you." Ava said.

Erik gulped. Revealing himself to a woman whom he trusted and was indebted to was one thing, but to two women that he barely knew? Was it really worth it? One look at Carmen told him what he needed to do. Slowly, he lifted the mask from his face and looked up at the two skeptics.

Their reaction was fairly predictable, although not as bad as Erik had expected. They both jumped back in surprise, but neither of them emitted a scream, fled in terror, or dropped dead. Of course, neither had Carmen.

* * *

I know this chapter was fairly short, but later ones will be longer, and more interesting. I promise I'll move on with the plot in the next chapter. This was the last chapter that ends in this particular day, as well. The sun'll come out, tomorrow, a day which shall come in the next chapter, fear not!

I can't think of any good random facts right now... Oh wait! I got one... nope. Lost it. Bah humbug!


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Me no ownee!

So, alas, we set the plot in motion! Humor shall grace this tale at long last!

Just for the record, I'd like to point out that this update took me all of like, two days! That's a record for me :blows party noisemaker thingy and throws confetti:

Note: Carmen ,the character, will be typed normally (Carmen). Carmen, the opera, will be typed in italics (_Carmen_).

**Madame Opera Ghost:** See? I did update :puffs chest proudly:

**AngleoftheOpera**: Hey, is your screen name supposed to say angle? I forgot about the ring part, too, but then I reread the book (that is, the entire book, not just the parts with Erik in them, which I know by heart...almost) and I figured I'd add that part into the story.

**RavenPOTOGirl:** I'm glad you likey!

**kichi hitomi:** I love the encouragement :hugs: It makes me hapeeeeeeeeeeee!

* * *

Chapter 4: Ice Cream, Chess, and Necrophobia

Twas the night before class starts

and all through the room,

both the tenants were pondering.

Carmen, her future. Erik, his doom.

When all of a sudden, there arose such a clatter,

Erik longed for a Punjab, should something be the matter.

And what to his half-awake eyes should appear,

but his good friend, Carmen, with books up to her ears.

"I could use a hand, here!" Carmen grumbled in Erik's general direction.

" You have two, I believe." he answered smartly.

Carmen glared at him... he could be such an ass! "You know, Erik, I still haven't shown you the electric keyboard, have I?"

" No. What of it?"

" It's sort of like a piano, only more compact and it can sound like a bunch of other instruments."

Erik couldn't believe it! It had been a week and a half since he'd appeared in her shower curtains, and she'd waited until now to mention to him that she had a piano. Of course, she hadn't mentioned until yesterday that she was going to school to earn a degree in music, specifically vocals. " What do you need help with?" he asked, resigned to the fact that he would have to help her if he ever wanted to see said piano.

" I have until tomorrow to write an essay on vibrato and how it should be used."

"What do you need to know?"

"Well, I could really use a decent definition for vibrato. The best I can come up with includes sounding like a sheep, and that just won't do."

Erik provided Carmen with a definition that did not utilize the word "sheep", or "wiggle", and proceeded to question her as to where to keyboard was.

" It's hanging in the closet, all folded up, leaning against the wall, and the bench should be right beneath it." she told him, not looking up from her work.

It took Erik a moment to figure out Carmen's odd little piano, and when he finally realized that it needed to be plugged into the wall outlet and began to play, he found it had a sound far inferior to that of a real piano. It was irksome, but a bad piano was still better than no piano at all. He sighed and sat down and began to play something from _Carmen_.

Carmen smiled a bit when she heard Erik playing something she actually knew. _Carmen_ was one of her favorite operas, and not just because the title was her name. _Carmen_ had been the first opera she'd ever been in... when she'd been seven... she could still remember shaking in her tutu before opening night. Before that performance, she'd insisted upon being called Ella, as her full name was Carmella, but that opera had made her realize that Carmen was the name for her.

Without realizing what she was doing, she started singing along with Erik's playing. To her relief, he neither cringed, exploded, swore, dropped dead, spontaneously combusted, nor stopped playing. He didn't join her either, even though there was a tenor part in that particular song, but Carmen certainly wasn't complaining.

"That was rather good." he said when the song was finished.

"Thanks." Carmen said, blushing scarlet.

Erik had been about to say more, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He felt a sudden, odd, plunging sensation in his stomach that got worse with every knock. Something about the visitor waiting beyond the door made him very nervous. As Carmen went to answer it, he slipped into the bathroom, turned off the lights, and locked the door. He heard Carmen answer the door, and immediately felt like a coward. He should have warned her about his bad feeling!

Carmen opened the door. What was Erik doing? He'd never been afraid of visitors before now, although she didn't really blame him, considering that her former roommate, the Morticia Adams wannabe, was on the other side of the door.

" Where is he?" her roommate demanded, her eyeliner-laden eyes boring into Carmen.

" What?"

" You know! Erik! I called him here the day before I left! I know he's here!"

" I don't know who you're talking about!" cried Carmen, putting on a good show of being confused and offended.

" Liar! I know he's here! I've heard him!"

"Heard who? And what do you mean, "you called him here"?" Carmen didn't know what this chick wanted with Erik, but somehow, she knew it wouldn't end well for him if this chick got her hands on him.

Stella sighed. Had this idiot girl not figured out what her chanting that night had meant? It had been a spell, of course! A spell meant to bring the past to life! Erik was the only proof she had that she'd completed the spell successfully, and she needed that proof to assure herself a higher rank in her cult (cleverly disguised as a study group). Well, perhaps the girl couldn't have figured that much out, but she couldn't possibly be this clueless! Did she even know who Erik was?

" That doesn't concern you!" she snapped. " However, it would be very wise of you to surrender him to me immediately!"

" I don't know who the hell you're talking about!" Carmen shouted. " Leave me alone!" She slammed the door and locked it, leaving her roommate to scream:

"I'LL BE BACK!"

It was a few minutes before Erik came out of the bathroom. He looked a bit worried.

" What was that?" he asked, " Did I hear my name?"

" Yes. That was my old roommate. She moved out the night before you appeared." quickly she told Erik everything that had been said.

" Called me here? Who does she think she is? She can't call me anywhere! I am no dog!"

" Actually, I'm begging to think she uses some sort of witchcraft..."

" Well, that's the most plausible reason for my being here we've found yet."

" Yeah... Erik, are you feeling alright?" Carmen had just noticed that Erik had gone rather pale and was shaking ever-so-slightly.

" I'm fine. It's just that it's been a whole month since, well... nevermind." Erik turned away.

" A month since what?" Carmen pressed him.

" Nothing."

" A month since Christine left?"

Erik gave a sad little sigh. " Yes." Curse her for knowing so much! " I'd expected to die before this. I'd been setting my affairs in order even as I was sent here..."

" Well, you won't be dying on my watch-"

" And why not!" snapped Erik, " I have no reason to live! My heart has been shattered... why should you deny me my peace?"

" Because you dying would traumatize me! I'd need emotional therapy... again..."

"Why?" Erik mentally cursed his inquisitive nature.

" Because I have something called Necrophobia, and it's rather severe."

" A fear of dead things?" Erik wondered aloud.

" Yes. I can't even look at a dead fish without starting to shake all over, and dead people on TV are enough to keep me awake for nights... you can imagine what seeing a real human corse would do..."

" How can you, then, have looked upon my face without fear?" Erik asked, still a bit stunned. Carmen didn't seem at all to be the fearful type.

" Okay, so maybe I was lying when I said it wasn't that bad, and I won't pretend it didn't startle me in the slightest, but Erik, you are not dead. Whatever you may think, you are very much alive. Your face in life will never frighten me so much as the most beautiful face with the touch of death in it's eyes." Carmen was shaking, now. She couldn't force those suppressed memories of that woman out of her mind all of the time... the way she'd just lain there on the floor, moaning in agony, while that beast of a man had fired the final shot...

" What are you hiding?" Erik asked at once. "There's something you aren't telling me!"

" I saw a woman murdered once, when I was little. I didn't know her, but the memories still haunt me from time to time."

Erik would have loved to have consoled Carmen. Honestly, he would have, but somehow, he felt that he was likely to make matters worse. She knew far too much about him not to know how many murders he himself was responsible for.

In a few seconds, Carmen seemed to get a grip on herself again. " Hey, I know how to make you feel better," she said, as though nothing had just happened.

" How?"

" Ice cream therapy!" she cried, " Vast quantities of ice cream heal all wounds, or at least put you on a sugar high so you can have a bit of fun!"

Erik shrugged, " It's worth a try..."

One gallon of rainbow sherbert later, Erik had to admit that he was feeling much better, although it was probably just the sugar high...

" Carmen, if you come any closer with that lipstick, so help me I'll... I'll...hit you with this pillow!"

" Oh no! Not the pillow!"

Carmen held the lipstick rather threateningly, but only for moment, because a second later a pillow knocked it out of her hand, and another pillow hit her in the face.

"Erik, you dork!"

" I gave you fair warning!"

Carmen was not so fair. She picked up the pillow that had just hit her face and chucked it at Erik's head. He caught it and used it to smack her mercilessly.

" Okay, you win!"

"That's what I thought."

" You, monsieur, are very egotistical. Did you know that?"

" I am not egotistical, just very competitive... at times."

" Well fine then, but I'll bet you can't beat me at chess!" Carmen knew Erik would refuse a challenge, not when he was this incredibly hyper.

The chess match that followed, was long, hard, and caffeine-fueled. By the end, Erik was using ventriloquism to make the pieces trash talk each other, a display that Carmen found to be highly amusing, particularly since he was using Victorian slang and kept having the different pieces call her queen 'filth'.

Eventually, Carmen finally pulled off her promised victory, much to Erik's horror. He'd just been beaten in a game of strategy! This was unheard of! Preposterous!

" Don't take it to heart, Erik. I've never lost a game of chess in my life! Besides, that was the best match I've ever had."

"You beat me..."

"Yep."

" I'm impressed."

"Err... thanks. You know, we should probably get to sleep, as I have classes tomorrow morning... oh shit! I forgot to finish my essay!" Carmen's eyes darted towards the essay, half-typed, on her computer screen. She was going to have to pull an all-nighter... and classes hadn't even started yet!"

" Don't worry about it." said Erik, seating himself behind her desk. " You sleep, I'll finish your essay for you."

" But that's-"

" Cheating? I won't tell if you don't, _daccord?_"

" Oh fine... since I'm really tired..." Carmen said through a yawn. "Goodnight, Erik...and thanks, by the way."

"Think nothing of it."

* * *

Okay folks! What'd you think? You know what I think? I think I want Erik to do _my_ homework! Or at least eat my homework, so then I could go up and be like "The Phantom of the Opera ate my homework..." and then they'd probably lock me in a nice room with padded walls, which is where I should probably be anyways...

So, love it? Hate it? Make your voice heard and review, please. If you don't, my poor puppy will STARVE! Nah, just kidding! I have no puppy...:sniffle:

Oh yeah, almost forgot the asterisk thing... for those who don't know, "Filth" is Victorian speak for "Whore".


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah... fine! I don't own POTO! Happy now:pouts:

**Marianne Brandon: **I know it doesn't seem right for Carmen to beat Erik at chess at the moment, but when you get to know her character a bit more, it won't seem so odd, still a bit off, maybe, but I just can't stand it when Erik always beats everyone at everything. Sure the guy's a total genius, but he isn't totally infallable. Don't worry, though, he won't be doing any more losing in the future (at least, none that i can think of...).

**Angeloftheoperahouse:** Thanks a bunch! Aww... Angle was a typo:pouts: Angle made me laugh... oh well!

**Boredboredbored:** Heehee! This isn't the only sugar high our dear Phantom will have, fear not!

**Baby-Vixen:** Yay! Fellow psychos unite! Woot woot! Bananallama! Ah! Not the rubber chicken! Noooooooo:dies:... :remembers that she isn't allowed to die yet:...:comes back to life: Alas, I have no kitties, either, for they make me sneeze, but I have the world's fluffiest poodle! he isn't a puppy, though, so he doesn't count... and a hedgehog! I've got one of those, too!

**Firebird Flight:** Yeah, I noticed the spelling mistakes when I proofread chapter four, which for some odd reason was after I posted it (Don't ask me why I do stupid things like that...) You've gotta give me a bit of leeway there, as I'm stuck using wordpad to type these things up and I have no spellcheck. Oh yes, and I've only read the original Phantom of the Opera by gaston Leroux, so I have no idea what the differences between the two books are, but from what I can tell, they give similar descriptions of Erik's mask and deformilies, however, I'm using some details fom the books and some from the movies (mostly because I started writing this before I'd finished the book) , so Erik is going to look like movie Erik(Gerik), except his deformities underneath the mask are going to be worse than they are in the movie(which isn't saying much), but most of the other details are from the Leroux books.

**Me**: Um... Okay then... And by the way, I did base a character off of you. She's just not in the story yet, so no whining!

**Gothamin: **Stella's going to give you nightmares? Oh my! Wait... who is the K anywhoo? And Harry isn't a puppy :pouts: He's too old.

**RavenPOTOGirl: **I've always wanted to put Erik on a sugar high... Honestly! That man needs to lighten up! By the way, cool smiley!

Note: I can hear the hampster dance! Woot woot! Now, where the heck is it coming from...?

* * *

Chapter Five: Home Alone...Whatever Number Comes Next! (Four or Five, I think...)

Carmen was carefull to be super-silent when she left her dorm the next morning. Erik was still asleep and she didn't want to wake him. She'd already explained to him that he needed to relatively quiet while she was gone, and she'd doubted that he would make any efforts to keep quiet at first, but after her weirdo roommate had shown up yesterday, she was fairly certain that Erik would heed her warning and shut up.

Erik watched Carmen leave through eyes opened just far enough for him to see while still giving the impression of sleep. He had things to do today and he couldn't afford to lose any of his alone time to commodities like sleep. True, he didn't really need to feign sleep, but he needed Carmen gone as soon as possible and she would waste time reminding him to be quiet and such while she was gone if she thought him awake...

He waited until her footsteps had faded into the distance before moving. Perhaps some(Carmen, for example) would call him a "controll freak", but he simply felt too vulnerable without some line of defense, and it had been gnawing at him all week that the Trap door-lover had no tricks up his sleeve, so without furter ado, he set to work on some sort of contraption that would give him an advantage in the event of an intrusion. This proved to be considerably more difficult, however, when he had no spare rooms or trap doors, and not to mention the lack of materials. He would have to come up with something completely new... how annoying!

An hour later, Erik had been inspired and was working up a way to get one of the heavier items on Carmen's shelf to swing down and hit virtually anywhere in the room he chose, he'd figured out how to get it to reach about half of the places in the room, but the further he got from the center of the room, the higher the object would go, and eventually it would run into the ceiling. He'd thought about using a spring of sorts to extend the object's reach, but that would have made it impossible to controll...

What he needed, thought Erik, was-

Wait! There was someone in the hall! Everyone should have been in classes by now! What was going on?

He pressed his ear to the door, and after a bit of straining, managed to discern the muttering...

"I'll show him! No proof, eh?...not so polite this time...barge right in!"

He recognized that painfully sharp voice! It was the same woman who had come looking for him the day before! She was coming for him again! His first thought was to let her come, and then permanantly remove her from his thoughts with an improvised punjab, but he knew that wouldn't end well. A murder, or even a dissapearance, would surely instigate a thourough examination of the grounds, and would likely get him found... He had to distract her long enough for him to get himself out of Carmen's dorm.

He cracked the door open just enough to see his little stalker coming towards him. Without thinking, he threw his voice so it seemed to be emmulating from a room just behind the approaching woman.

"Ouch! Damn you!" he said. He had no idea what she would think he was doing, but it didn't matter. She stopped, grinned and slipped into the room behind her.

Now he needed to get somewhere safe! Grabbing Carmen's wedge-shaped doorstop and his half-finished plans, he slipped into the room acoss the hall. The door was locked, but locks had never been able to stop Erik. He picked it in a moment's time with a small peice of wire he kept for that particular reason and slipped inside, just before the woman emerged from the other room, looking very angry, and stomped into Carmen's room.

When the girl had gone into Carmen's room Erik crept out of hiding, carefull to re-lock the door behind him as not to arouse suspicion from the room's occupants. With a sinister chuckle he slipped to doorstop beneath Carmen's door, trapping the lass inside until further notice. How could she have been so foolish to think that she could take the Phantom of the Opera by surprise?

Now, where to go? He could give himself a tour of the cellars... but there was bound to be employees of the establishment down there. No, he would go to the only other room he was safe in, Ava and Jessica's room! Carmen had mentioned to him once that they were sharing room 167, so he followed the room numbers upstairs untill he finally came upon number 167.

It didn't take Erik long to decide that he vastly prefered Carmen's room, which was decorated mostly in darkly colored wood, to the room of her friends, which was plastered in various posters, one of which, he was rather amused to observe, was from the movie "The Phantom of the Opera". The real thing about this room that bothered him, though, was the bright colors! They were everywhere! No matter where he looked, he found himself forced to endure some garrishly vibrant shade of blue, green, orange, or yellow! Soon, he found it best to simply close his eyes, but that didn't last long, as he grew bored rather quickly.

Perhaps they had an electric keyboard? He searched about, and was going to look in the closet, when he heard a faint scratching from inside and decided that from what he knew of Carmen's friends, he simply didn't want to know.

Carmen dragged herself back from her classes, eager to have an intelligent conversation after having been bored to hell and back all day. She'd thought college would have been more of challenge, but alas, it was no better than high school. Maybe it would get harder after the first week... she sincerely hoped so. She was going to die of boredom if this kept up. She'd been finishing essays for one class while pretending to listen to a lecture in another class all day!

She got to her room and was a bit surprised to find her doorstop in the middle of the hallway and the door unlocked.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, "Erik?...Are you here?" Her room was trashed! It appeared as though her garbage can had been kicked across the room, sending trash flying everywhere! Books were thrown everywhere, her chair was on it's side, and everything that had been on her desk was thrown onto the floor! "Erik! Where are you!" she cried franticly. He wasn't here! Had he left? Had it been he who'd done this?... No! It had been that damned roommate of hers! She was certain of it! That bitch had waited until she was gone, and caught Erik while he sleeping!

Jessica was more than a bit surprised to find her door unlocked when she returned from her classes. Georgia had gotten home before her, probably.

But when she opened the door, she did not see Georgia.

"Aaaaak! Erik!" she screamed. Erik was lying on Georgia's bed, staring at the poster bedecked ceiling. The look on his face reminded her scarily of what she'd always imagined the Big Bad Wolf would look like after he'd eaten Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother, somewhat bored and drowzee looking, but with an amused smirk playing about what little she could see of his face. " You've eaten Georgia, haven't you?"

Erik wished, for the first time in his life, that he'd actually learned to burp on command from that ragged man in Turkey. It would have been a laugh to see the look on her face had he burped and said something about needing a glass of water to wash it down with... But alas, he was far too dignified to do something like that.

"No. Is Carmen back from class yet?"

"I don't know? What're you doing here?"

Georgia came in, toting an armfull of books. "Who's here, Thaur? ...Erik?"

" It's rather a long story." He said, " I suppose that by definition, I'm hiding."

"From what?"

"Carmen's roomate."

"Ha!" shouted Georgia " I told you her dorm was haunted."

"No, the roomate that brought me here, and then left, but now she wants me back for whatever reason.. and why am I wasting my breath on you two?"

"Because it amuses us."

"Well I am not here... to amuse you."

Everyone jumped when Carmen entered, looking rather pale and worried. "Have any of you seen...ERIK!" Carmen didn't care what he would think. She ran up to Erik and hugged him round the waist. "I was worried _she _might have gotten you!"

Carmen's hug had caught Erik by surprise... certainly not the reaction he'd expected... and he felt like the kitten of some possive little child who was clenching to it so tightly that it's eyes were bugging out. " She almost did-" he squeaked... " and please let me go!"

Carmen apologized sheepishly and realease him... She really needed to controll her randopm ures to hug Erik... but he was the type of person that you knew really needed a hug, but clearly doesn't want one... It was actually rather sad. "What do you mean, she almost caught you?" she asked, feeling the need to change the subject.

Erik dove into an explanation of what happened, leaving out the fact that he'd been feigning sleep when Carmen had left (as to leave that option open for him should he need to use it later) Halfway through, he was interrupted by that same scratching noise he'd heard earlier. " What _is_ that blasted scratching?" he wondered, more to himself than to the others.

"Uhh... nothing! Absolutly nothing!" said Jessica quickly.

Carmen gave her friend the _'yeah right'_ look and went over to the closet. She looked inside and laughed.

" Jessica and Ava! Bad!" she scolded jokingly.

"Well... It's not like we could just leave them with our parents and come back to find them dead, so we told them that we were allowed to bring _small_ pets, just not dogs, cats, and elephants."

Carmen reached inside and pulled out... to Erik's horror... a rat! She scratched it behind the ears before letting it run up her arm and curl up in the hood of her sweatshirt.

" What was _that_?" Erik asked, not quite ready to beleive that these girls actually kept rats as pets.

" A rat." said Georgia.

Erik suddered, "Disgusting..." he muttered.

" They are NOT disgusting!" snapped Jessica, now holding a second rat. "They're actually quite clean, plus they're intelligent, friendlt, and adorable."

"That remains to be seen... "

"That's it!" Jessica strode over to the closet, pulled out a _third _rat, and shove it in Erik's face. "This is Remus! Pet him!"

* * *

There's some suspense for ya! Will Erik pet the adorable rodent? Will he scream like a girl and throw it across the room? Will he eat it? Will he look at Jessica like she's mad and refuse to move untill she takes the fluffyness from under his nose? You decide! Tell me what he should do in your reveiws! Reveiw in the next five miniutes and receive, as my gift from you, this limited edition year-old potatoe chip! But wait! There's a catch (but not more, I'm afraid)! If you tell me he should eat it, you're wasting your vote, because he's not going to eat the rat... That would be totally disgusting! Anything else is perfectly fine with me, though! And if anyone has another idea, that works too! 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Awwww... Can't I just have Erik? You can have everyone and everything else, I just want my phantom buddy:gets bludgeoned by Gaston Leroux: Oh fine! Be that way! Phantom's yours...you greedy meanie! But Carmen, Ava, and Jessica are mine! Well... sort of. Jessica and Ava are based off of two of my buddies, so actually I don't own them, either, but Carmen's still mine:rants and raves:

Okay, so I sort of combined everything you suggested for the rat thing with a few of my own ideas to get an idea conglomerate... in idealomerate, for those who enjoy bad pseudonyms... hope you like!

I'm sorry about the stupidly long time it took me to post this chapter. I've been really busy for the last few week, so I'm utilizing the weekend to get this chapter done and up!

The next chapter has been long-anticipated by myself, though, so it should be up very soon! Either very soon or in a week or two, depending on how evil writer's block is, and how freakishly busy I am.

Ah yes, and all french will be in Italics with a translation after it in parentheses for those who don't speak the language (or for when I make a mistake, so you know what I was trying to say!)

**RebbeccaTurner01:** Aww... poor Rosie... I won't abandon this story! The other ones were crappie, which is why I ditched them. This one actually has a potential for a plot, though, so it stays! Actually, the Pirates of the Caribbean one had a plot, too. It was just stupid and cliche, which is why it died.

**Marianne** **Brandon: **When I wrote the bit about Erik eating the rat, I got this really great mental image of him suddenly going all snake-like and just swallowing the poor thing, Jessica's hand and all! But like I said, he can't really eat the rats. Jessica and Ava would NEVER forgive him if he did...

**Avatine:** What? Me? Eavesdrop? No sir, ah haint been droppin no eaves! I was jus' trimmin the grass under the windowsill, 'ere:Imitates Sam from Lord of the Rings: As for the trapping Carmen's roommate thing, well... I thank you :bows to applauding masses:. And yes, Sirius was on of the other rats that came out earlier, but I didn't feel like naming him quite yet. Maybe he'll be officially named later, I dunno...

**Sapphiragirl: **Your reviews always make me so happy:hugs: I give you a 10/10 for awesome reviewing!

**Baby-Vixen:** Yay! Chicken:steals chicken and ties to mast of nearby sailboat:is crushed by evil, nasty, masty (Yay! It rhymes!): Oweee! I luff my fluffy... well not really very fluffy... hedgie! He's my buddy buddy!

**Atressa O'Riordan: **Yeah, I know. The fact that he lives with the rats in the cellars is precisely why he doesn't like them. It's not that he's afraid of them or anything, he just thinks they're filthy and disgusting (which he very well should, being from Victorian era Paris and all).

**Nota Lone: **Hmm... A rat named Raoul, eh? Not a bad idea... Ah! Bad self! Bad self! Must not kill the rat! Not the rats fault! Rat did not steal Christine and make Erik sad:forces self to take miniature noose off of rat: I should use that in later chappies... that is, if you don't mind?

**Firebird Flight:** Yeppers! That's exactly why Erik doesn't like the rats... poor rats. He never gave them a change to prove their unstinkiness :pouts: But guess what? I just realized that I do have a word processor with a spell check:does happy dance: my troubles are OVER!

**Madame Opera Ghost: **I'm confused... alas, you'd be amazed how often I say that.

**Moose de l'opera:** Oh I'm a psycho, am I...well actually, yes. Yes I am!

* * *

Chapter Six: A Day in the Life...

"This is Remus! Pet him!"

"Ugh! I'd rather not..." Erik looked as though it'd been a heaping pile of dung under his nose instead of an adorable, fuzzy little rat. " Rats are filthy vermin, in case no one else has had the sense to tell you." he said snootily (yes, I made up the word...I'm being patriotic).

"Too bad! You must get over your fears!"

"I'm not afraid of it, I just–" Erik was cut off by a facefull of rat. _Apparently, it's either pet the rat... or eat it._ Erik thought (as he was incapable of saying so aloud).

Erik flung himself away from the furry beast whilst screaming in disgust (rather girlishly, as the tenor's voice was surprisingly high when provoked). "Are you trying to bloody kill me!" he snapped at Jessica, who was checking the rat for injuries and failed to hear him. "Here, let us dispose of it in a... proper way." Erik picked up a shoe and held it above his head, but Jessica smacked him hard enough to send him flying backward onto the bed.

"No hurting the fluffy rats!"

Carmen set her rat back in it's cage a went to help Erik up. "Jessica!" she scolded, "No hurting the fluffy Erik!"

"I'm... fluffy?" wondered Erik aloud. " Fluffy, of all things..."

"Yes." Georgia agreed, shifting her attention to their conversation. "Very fluffy."

"How excellent." he said flatly.

Soon, Carmen and Erik returned their dorm (as Erik had decided that the room was no longer Carmen's alone). Erik was rather surprised to see the mess that the girl had made. Really, had she been expecting to find him hiding in the wastebasket? Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and only took them a few minutes to clean.

As Carmen was bending down to pick up the final piece of trash, she noticed a bit of paper sticking out of Erik's pocket. Expecting to find a doodle or something, she plucked it, finding that Erik's quick reflexes could be beat with extreme sneakiness, but only by a little. He nearly snatched it back, but before he could do so, she'd already opened it. As it turned out, this was no doodle. It was plans for one of the security systems that had been oh-so-characteristic of the Phantom throughout the book.

"So _that's_ what you were doing while I was gone."she said speculatively. "Is it finished?"

"Not quite." said Erik, "Not that you were supposed to see that, of course." he added under his breath.

"Oh, I see. It can't reach the room's extremities. Well, if I think of anything, I'll let you know, but I've got to figure out my piece, so I'll just leave you to that, then." Carmen rummaged around in her bag a bit, before pulling out a piece from _Des Iries_ and setting it on her keyboard.

It was becoming rather difficult for Erik to focus on reading when every wrong note Carmen hit caused him to flinch and shudder. Her piano-playing was comparable to Carlotta's singing... good enough to recognize the song, but bad enough that you were longing for the end. Finally, he could stand it no more. "Move!" he said firmly. "I'm going to show you exactly how to play that song."

"I don't need to be able to play it. I need to sing it, but it works better for me to hear it first before I sing."

"And if you are playing it that badly, you are certain not to sing it much better."

"I'd have it under control in a day or two, once I figured the rhythm... I'm rhythmically challenged-"

"-Which is simply a bad excuse for not being able to sightread.".

"I resent that! I can sightread... just not well."

"Well in that case, you don't need my help..." Erik trailed off, knowing exactly how she would respond.

"Okay, okay." yielded Carmen, "I'll stop arguing if you'll help me."

Erik grinned. If he didn't know better, he'd say he'd developed psychic powers. Nonetheless, he played the song for her, complete with the accompaniment (Carmen had only been playing the first soprano line).

He finished the song with a little flourish of his own improvision to the final chord. "Better?" he asked.

"Much."Carmen replied.

Erik debated helping her with the actual singing. It wouldn't seem right, perhaps, to be coaching someone other than Christine, but on the other hand, he'd let Christine go with the Vicompte; she was no longer his pupil. Clearly, he wasn't going to be dying anytime soon, so he'd have to get over her eventually... But that was ridiculous. He'd never be truly over the loss of Christine, but he couldn't dwell on her, not if he wanted to keep his sanity, and besides, helping Carmen would give him something to do...

* * *

The next morning, Carmen left for classes as she had the day before, only this time, Erik really was asleep... She could tell because he kept turning over and muttering things about staccatos in act four.

Her first class that day was the standard composition class required for graduation. The professor, she noticed, had to be at least eighty. He wrote the reading assignment for the following week on the board... This was a big mistake, as Carmen spent the class reading the assignment while he blathered on about semicolons for an hour and a half.

This was the typical class for Carmen. She rarely paid full attention to lectures, instead using them to finish homework while paying just enough attention to answer and surprise questions, and art she'd had perfected since her sophomore year in high school.

Next was acting. She'd been dreading this all summer... the one class she couldn't slack off in and still get good grades. The professor was not different from the rest. Actually, he was probably a bit more entertaining and laid-back than her other instructors. No, the problem lay with Carmen herself. She simply couldn't act her way out of a paper bag... not even a little lunch-sized one!

They began with a few simple exercises, peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers and such, and she didn't embarrass herself, but she was glad Erik couldn't see her reading a passage from _Macbeth_. She was worse than Carlotta!

How had she ever gotten the leads in those school musicals, nevermind the traveling theater performances! Of course, it had been her voice that had gotten her the roles, but that wasn't going to be enough anymore. There were plenty of people with good voices...

One of her classmates caught her attention when she began her reading, again from _Macbeth_, but it sounded like an entirely different play from when she'd read it. Her rendition of the witches chant was believable and put the audience right into the middle of the whole ordeal. Then, Carmen realized who her talented classmate _was_! It was Erik's stalker!

_Geese's leg and owlet's wing_

_Double double, toil and trouble_

_Fire burn and cauldron bubble_

"That's enough... Elizabeth." said the professor, scanning the list for her name.

"It's Stella." she said in the same gravelly voice she'd used for the reading.

For lunch, Carmen decided to join Erik for some sort of ramen noodles. When she came in, he was playing the keyboard... softly, as not to repeat yesterday's charades. He seemed surprised to see her.

"_Bonjour_." she said casually, tossing her jacket and bag onto the futon. "_Manges-tu le dejeuner?_"(have you eaten lunch?).

"_Non." _he answered, not looking up from the keyboard. He finished the piece with a difficult-looking something-or-other that Carmen decided to dub "the finger punjab". "Whatever happened to classes?" he asked.

"I'm on my lunch hour." she answered, "So I figured I'd come up and have some ramen noodles or something with you."

"Something."

"What?"

"Something. You said ramen noodles or something, so I choose something." Erik said, sounding very much like one of Carmen's younger sisters, only older... and maler.

"If you're going to pick at my grammar, try picking at something that people other than yourself actually notice."

Erik sighed one of his what-is-the-world-coming-to sighs, and tossed her a packet of noodles. She'd only been living off of these damn noodles for a week and a half, but they were already working their addictive magic on her... not on Erik, though. For some odd reason, he seemed to be immune to the allure of the noodles... he probably still held a grudge from when she'd forgotten to tell him that you couldn't put metal in the microwave and he'd nearly blown the thing up... Instead, he'd just charred the inside of it and burnt his hand as he tried to extinguish the flaming noodles. Meanwhile, Carmen had been laughing insanely.

Now that Erik had mastered the microwave, though, he was becoming a rather skilled ramen noodle chef.

"You know," Carmen began in between noodles, "I should really take you shopping tomorrow. You can't just stay in a cloak and dress clothes all the time."

"Shopping?" gulped Erik. "Must I?"

* * *

Fwahaha! I shall make him shop till he drops! Not dead, or course... hmm, death by shopping... interesting. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I own nothing... and can't think of anything witty to add to it right now.

**Marianne Brandon**: I know... it's a wretch to pull him away from his normal (ultra-sexy) dress clothes and cape, but it must be done :dramatic sob: if he's going to do anything outside of Carmen's dorm.. And no worries, light blue isn't a very Phantom-ish color anyway:imagines Erik in light blue fop shirt:... icky... As for sending Erik to cook you some ramensies... no! All mine!... Just kidding, you can borrow him so long as you return him in working order.

**RebbeccaTurner01:** Yeah, the ½ sheep, 1/4 duck, and 1/4 human thing only applies to Carlotta's singing. Besides, Carmen is not a sheep... never will I write a character who is part sheep, unless they're the villain or I have no choice...

**Avatine:** No, no. Phantom buddy can make ramen. He makes ramen with super-human skill, you silly person. I smack you with my slipper... hahaha! AH:is beaten down by flying anti-slipper air squad:

**Firebird Flight**: Meh... I'd go back and change stuff like that, but I'm far too ADD- oh look! A chicken! As for maler not being a word... yes, I know, but I often make up my own custom words in order to get the point across without marring the humor. When I finish the story, I'll go back and edit for mistakes, though.

**Songwind: **Glad to hear that odd bit of humor appealed to you! I was hoping someone would find it funny!

**LoneWolf2005: **Gotta love the fluffy Erik bit! Ah yes... so many possibilities.

**Nota Lone:** You really like Raoul-bashing, don't you? I plan on using your idea a bit later in the story, it fits my plot perfectly!.. I'd love to see Raoul in an iron man competition... Just the thought of him trying in vain to pull a truck up uphill, realizing that he's tied to the wrong end and that he's actually on the downhill side, and getting squished... ah, the joy of squishing Raoul... You know another great way to squish Raoul? You tie him to the gate thing in front of Erik's lair like Erik does in the new movie, and then, instead of threatening Christine with him, you just raise up the gate... :laughs maniacally:

**Solecito: **I'm so glad you like! Actually, I'm from Wisconsin. Don't ask me why I'm basing my story out of Cincinnati... Particularly when there's a really awesome musical academy right in my own home town... I'm just odd like that... Anywhoo, we do have Hot Topic up here (hurrah for awesome shirts with Jack Sparrow on them!), and as for Erik liking said store, well, It's funny you should ask. You'll just have to read and find out... You're half right, I guess.

**Moon Avenger: **Nooooo:wails and moans: My muse! You've stolen my muse! Noo! Give him back...! I don't feed him _entirely_ on ramens! I swear:sobs at feet and begs the return of her phriend:

**Sapphiragirl: **Thankies! Ah yes, a shopping we shall go, a shopping we shall go! Hi ho the dairy-o, a shopping we shall go!

**TheGreatSporkWeilder: **OMG! I love your name! Sporks rock! Yeah, I can't quite picture Erik in abercrombie, either... well actually I can. He's just not very happy about it. No, I figured he'd go for something a bit more conservative, but they are at the mall, simply to save poor Carmen the trouble of having to drive all over the place and pay tons of money for stupidly expensive gas... Long live the ramen noodles!

notes: Remember when I said that I was going to base most of my story on the recent movie, with a few elements from Leroux's book? Well, Erik's past is one of those elements from the book, mostly because the past Leroux gives him is far better than the one from the movie, which is way too oversimplified and boring. Yes folks, this means that Erik does know Nadir.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Cincinnati Central :in excruciatingly fake British accent: In which the Authoress makes it painfully obvious that this is, in fact, dear old Gerik we have on our hands...

The mall was busy, which made sense as it was Saturday, and even without his cloak (which Carmen had refused to let him wear in public, despite it looking insanely awesome, as it was simply too Victorian), Erik attracted a lot of odd looks. It was a rather odd sight, with Erik's formal appearance starkly contrasting with Carmen's ripped jeans, rhinestone heels, designer t-shirt, and worn leather blazer.

Carmen tried to drag Erik into Abercrombie and Fitch, but he flat out refused, insisting that he had "far too much class to be buying clothes with holes already in them". Carmen had to admit that he had a valid point, but she'd been addicted to designer clothes since middle school, and Erik wasn't going to be able to break her habit simply by making a good point. She wasn't a prep, far from it, in fact. It was just that designer clothes looked good on her... and she liked spending money!

Meanwhile, Erik, who had been appalled at the way Carmen dressed, wearing pants and such, was quickly learning that he had much to be thankful for. Every time someone went by them in one of those garishly short skirts that covered less than women's underwear had in his time, he gave in involuntary shudder and averted his gaze. Honestly, how could they wear such things!

He was thankful to learn that Carmen felt the same way he did on this matter. He would have had difficulty letting her leave the room in anything like that!

Finally, they came upon a shop that Erik thought looked somewhat sensible. The sign above the door read simply "The Gap". According to Carmen, it was a worthy establishment.

The moment they stepped inside, a bright-eyed lass with frizzy, shockingly red hair scampered over to them an gazed at them for a while with her freaky little bug-eyed stare before she finally spoke.

"Can I help you?" she said, with an unnaturally sharp and squeaky voice. It took all of Erik's self-restraint not to punjab her on the spot... not that Carmen would let him anywhere near anything vaguely resembling a punjab, of course. The girl had more sense than that... Even if she _did_ shop in places that were occupied by irritating, curly-haired, bug-eyed freaks (any of this sounding familiar?).

Erik grew quickly accustomed to ignoring Shirley's endless ranting about sales and what not... But every once and a while, she would stop talking to stare obsessively at Erik's mask for a few minutes, which he found a bit more difficult to ignore. Finally, when he was about to snap and strangle the determined little saleswoman, Carmen announced that they'd found enough clothes and that Erik should go and try things on... He was almost surprised that Shirley didn't follow him into the men's changing room.

Inside, the changing stalls reminded Erik sorely of the shower that had bruised the back of his head on his first day here. He would never understand exactly how people could change in so small a space, but somehow, he managed to change into a pair of what Carmen called "jeans" and a black sweater. Carmen had already explained to him how twenty-first century underwear worked and gifted him with numerous pairs of "boxers"(on the condition that he was to do his own laundry, of course). He looked in the mirror. It didn't look bad, except that you could tell how thin he really was... to hide it, he added something that reminded him of a dress coat, only without the swallowtails and in an odd sort of material... leather, perhaps? No, it was too soft... He'd ask Carmen later, when he'd finished with the massive pile of clothes she'd sent him in with.

The rest of the pile went by surprisingly quickly, and when Erik was finished, he went back out, expecting to find Carmen waiting for him outside the door, but she wasn't there. Erik panicked for a moment. Much has he hated to admit it, he was reliant upon her. Without Carmen, he had nothing in this world, no home, no friends, no connection to music. The first two, he could do without, but music had been part of him since he'd first discovered it in the ranks of those gypsies so long ago.

But no... he was overreacting! Carmen hadn't left him. She was just... somewhere else. Perhaps she had resumed her shopping while waiting for him to finish?

But he looked throughout the store and couldn't find her anywhere. Now, he was getting mad. Had she really left him? Of course, he couldn't blame her, not when his own mother couldn't even bear to look at him. He should have expected this...

An annoyingly familiar voice from behind him made him jump.

"Looking for your lady-friend, sir?" asked Shirley.

"Lady-friend? She's not my-" Erik began.

"Whatever. She's in the fitting rooms right now. If you'd like, we have waiting facilities."

"Why thank you." said Erik, hoping he didn't sound as relieved as he felt. "This is the first time you've been helpful, I believe ."

Shirley didn't hear him, or at least, she didn't respond as she led him to a small room with a sofa, two armchairs, and piles of strange, thin, paper-bound books. There was another man sitting on the sofa with one such book, so Erik seated himself in an armchair on the opposite side of the room.

The man didn't seem to notice Erik's arrival, but just in case, he held a book entitled "Sports Illustrated" up so that his face was hidden behind it. He wasn't really interested in reading it, of course, but if the other man should look up, Erik didn't want to have to make up an excuse for why he was wearing a mask.

"Women, eh?" said the man suddenly, not looking up from his book. "Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em."

Erik's first thought was to ignore the man, but perhaps he ought to take his chances. After all, it appeared he was going to be here for some time, and he'd best learn to speak with the "commonfolk". From the pieces of conversation he'd been hearing, it seemed that most people here spoke (and swore) with a level of intelligence comparable to a common sailor.

"Most definitely." he agreed blindly, having no real opinion on that particular manner.

"Who're you waiting for? Girlfriend? Wife?"

"Friend." he corrected him. Why, he wondered, was everyone so obsessed with relationships? Did they have nothing better to speak of!

As if an answer to his unspoken prayers, Carmen emerged from the dressing rooms with a pile of clothes much smaller than the one she'd given him.

"Erik,' she said, sounding rather surprised, "You're finished already?"

Erik set down his odd little book, almost laughing at the way the man stared at his mask, his mouth agape, and went over to Carmen with the clothes he'd liked.

"Yes," he said when he was standing right behind her. " I'm finished."

As they left the room to make their purchases, Erik could have sworn he'd heard the man he'd spoken with earlier mutter "Nice friend... lucky bastard." Yes, Erik had to admit that Carmen _was _rather pretty, which was clearly why the man thought him "lucky", but of course, the man was utterly wrong. Erik had never been lucky.

They left The Gap and headed to a nearby store that reminded Erik of the set from the opera "Faust" with it's dark decor and randomly strewn bits of bright color. The general attitude of the place seemed to suit him far better than the last place they'd been, but the merchandise certainly did not. Most of the pieces sported some form of silver spike and looked rather like costumes from the Moulin Rouge that had been adapted for everyday wear... It wasn't too bad, he figured, just not his favorite type of style. He'd always favored the more elegant, conservative fashions. Still, he felt a bit more at home here than he had in the bright and cheery surroundings of the last shop.

The sign above the door read "Hot Topic".

"You have to have _some_ personality in your wardrobe." Carmen explained, "Or else things would be so horribly boring."

"I see." said Erik, taking in the general effect of the place. "How odd. These clothes have writing on them..." he was looking at a shirt that said, in white letters across the chest, "Kiss me, I'm a Pirate".

"Precisely."

Erik didn't quite understand Carmen's reply. Perhaps, he decided, it was best to simply accept things like this. Carmen seemed to lose her ability to make any sense when she was shopping, so anything he asked was simply going to met with an answer that was completely incoherent.

The two were finished with their shopping several hours later. Erik was looking rather a lot like a pack horse, with at least ten bags hanging from his person, while Carmen was carrying only one... her handbag.

They were on their way out of the mall when a group of giggling girls, whom Carmen estimated to be around her own age, perhaps a bit older, went past them. It was a rather large group, so when they passed, they surrounded her and Erik on all sides. One of them, she couldn't tell which, had the audacity to slap Erik's... butt (which Carmen noticed, for the first time, was rather scrumptious) as they passed.

When they cleared, she was amused to find Erik looking positively scandalized. "...How _dare _they!" he stammered. "I've never felt so violated in all my life!"

"Get used to it." grinned Carmen, "You _do_ have a rather nice arse..."

Erik turned to face her, an expression of mingled surprise and horror and his face. The visible half of his nose was wrinkled in disgust. "...How vulgar! Positively animalistic!" he exclaimed. "If people in your time have the nerve to do _that_ to _me_... I shudder to think what must happen to handsome men... Are they accosted in the streets!"

"No. When you've got an ass like that, no one even bothers to look at your face." she teased.

"Hmm..." he mused, "Perhaps I like this new world of yours..."

For a second, Carmen actually thought he was serious, until she realized he was grinning. "Yeah, Erik!" she laughed, "You could be a real pimp!"

"Pimp?" repeated Erik.

"It's our way of saying... _Don Juan Triumphant_...You know, a womanizer!" Carmen sang the name of Erik's opera like Erik sung it in the movie when introducing it at the masquerade.

Erik was still getting over the fact that Carmen knew about his opera. He had been rather used to it being his own little secret. She was lucky that he saw his main character that way, as well, or else he might have been deeply offended by her comparison. But then again, she probably knew his views on _that_ as well.

He climbed into the passenger seat of Carmen's pitch black car, and prepared himself to endure even more of her lamentable driving skills...

* * *

Okay, yet another chapter gone, by and we still know absolutely nothing about Carmen's past... hmm... curious, no? Perhaps it shall come in the next chapter?

Well folks, until next time..._adios_!... Happy reviewing!


	8. Chapter Eight

Okay! I've finally got chapter eight up! I'm sorry it took so long, but I've been a wee bit over stressed and depressed lately, and it's rather difficult to write a romantic comedy when one is busy chewing the heads off of anyone foolish enough to bother them... but, on a lighter and happier not, I'm done being a crab, now:blows annoying party horn thingy and throws confetti:

Oh yeah, when I was re-reading chapter six, I realized that I accidently called Ava "Georgia". I'm an idiot, but I meant Ava, not Georgia... Georgia was another name I was considering for Ava's character, which is why I accidentally typed it in. Nobody said anything about it in the reviews, though, so you can't have been too confused, but I just thought I'd clear that up, just in case someone was thinking she was a new character or something.

**Sapphiragirl: **What? Camping song? Barney? Dancing Kirby?... oh wait! I see it now! Aww... It's cute:grins evilly: Come on! You _know_ you wanna see Erik (particularly the Gerik variety)in purple, vinyl pants and a matching suit coat with nothing but a tacky gold medallion beneath said suit coat!.. Oh yeah, and the weird little cane thing... can't forget the cane..

**Moon Avenger: **YES! You should give him back! It's not nice to steal... And how can you tell me to feed him better while you feed him MacDonald:mutters: It's gross... and greasy... except for the french fries. I have a weakness for fries, but everything else is nasty... anyways, yes, I will feed him better (just wait until a few chapters from now, I tell you! Just wait!) But you _did _give me an Erik for president pin and a happy plushie, so perhaps you can _borrow_ him. You should have him make you some ramen noodles :grins evilly:. He's rather good at that...

**RebbeccaTurner01:** AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! RUN AWAY! NOT THE SPORK! ANYTHING BUT THE SPOOOOOOOOORK!

**i R A loser: **Well, usually, there's a decent space of time between all of your classes, but by lunch break, I meant a space of time where Carmen had no class, not an hour of two reserved for eating lunch, and I assure you, girls of ALL ages giggle, particularly ones that a flirty enough to slap the butts of random men at the mall.

**Angeloftheoperahouse: **Oui! I so agree! The ass-slapper must DIE!... But I'm too lazy to give her a name, personality, and write up a scene in which Erik gets his sweet revenge, so we'll just assume that the moment Erik and Carmen left, the mall was suddenly overrun with voracious cows that devoured our flirty little fiend with a happy little "moo!"

**Nota Lone:** Of course some of the shirts would have thrown him off a bit... but he doesn't have to notice those now does he:drums fingertips like a plotting psychopath: Actually, he probably wouldn't pick up on a lot the hidden meanings and such, as he's still rather new to this whole twenty-first century thing. The more blatant ones probably would have scared the crap out of him, though... We'll have to keep him to the tame ones, then...

**Lorraine: **Aww... thanks! Don't worry, I'm not going to abandon this story!

**Songwind: **Thank you! I was hoping someone would make the connection that, no, Erik is not used to seeing mini-skirts and tube tops, and yes, women's underwear did cover more than most twenty-first century skirts in Erik's time! I had so much fun writing that last bit with the arse-slapping, really I did...

**Lobo Diablo: **I want a rat so bad, but my blasted parents are allergic to EVERYTHING, so I can't have one... As for laughing too hard and getting in trouble :takes a bow: I can't tell you how often that happens to me, so I know how you feel. And alas, my muse SHALL return, just as soon as Moon Avenger is done borrowing him... In the meantime, I shall simply have to... sing myself a sad, lonely song.

**TheGreatSporkWeilder: **Eep! You aren't in cahoots with RebbeccaTurner01, are you:hides while Laur tries, yet again, to gouge her eyes out with sporks in a feeble attempt to speed my updates, and yes, I just couldn't imagine Erik going anywhere near Abercrombie... it's really not his type of store. And boo shah for yummy guyfriends!

**Frigidhart: **I know, I know. I'm being a slow moron, but seriously, if I would have tried to post anything while I was being all stupid and mad at everything and everyone, it would have been really bad... or at least really angsty, so it's probably best that I waited until I'd sorted things out a bit and went back to my normal, smart-ass, relatively cheery self before I tried to wrote more in a humor fic. After this, I should be back to weekly updates, though (but I'm not making any promises until summer comes)

**Misty Breyer: **:joins in drooling: Mmmmm... Don Juan...yummmm- :slaps self: Ah bad Lenis! Bad! Must... answer... reviews...! Yes, I guess the gap is a rather foppish store, but it's better than abercrombie, right? I wanted to put him in Armani, but it would have defeated the purpose if, in a attempt to make Erik look relatively "normal", we dressed him up like Donald Trump (sans the weird swirly hair... he gets the cool hair/wig of sexiness instead). I'm glad you like Carmen. I was planning on revealing more of her personality much earlier in the fic, but it kept getting pushed back, but not anymore (insert jaws theme here)!

**Marianne** **Brandon: **Nope. No punjab. She got eaten by cows... or was it a black hole:checks earlier review responses: Nope, it was the cows... so much for poetic justice, but a rather effective way of punishing her. Hmm... Scary waiting room man think Erik gay? I should have added that... (spazzy authoress think in complete sentences?) Oh! I want to read Kay's novel so bad, but I can't find it anywhere...:sobs: Well, actually, I should probably just order it online... as my not-so-handy-dandy public library doesn't have it... And if it's any consolation, I wasn't a huge fan of No One Would Listen, either (except that Erik's still traipsing about in the Don Juan pants) I sort of liked the song, but it would've been really bad in the movie... It was sort of like a "What have we learned today with Erik?" type of thing... I don't know. It was just weird.

I am so insane right now, but who cares? I've finally updated:does the hustle: Okay, so this chapter isn't all that humor-filled, but you'll notice that this fic is a romance/humor, meaning that yes, at some point there will be romance, and it's about time I got that ball-a-rollin'... particularly since romance is actually the primary genre...

* * *

Chapter Eight: The D-Bomb

"Checkmate." said Erik rather smugly.

"Damn."

"Someday, I will take the initiative to count the number of times a day you use that word."

"You do that, Erik... I've got to go." Carmen grabbed her bag. Their 'quick little rematch' had ended up lasting for nearly an hour, and if she didn't hurry, she'd be late for Voice!

The professor was just closing the door as Carmen arrived. He glared at her, but let her in anyways. She uttered some brief apologies for her lateness, and took a seat next to Ava.

"Way to make a second impression..." Ava hissed sarcastically.

Carmen responded with a long groan. She knew she was going to look really irresponsible, but honestly, was that impression all that far from the truth? After all, she'd gotten through high school on wit alone... while secretly laughing at all the poor folk who actually had to do _work_ to do well... Now, she was feeling the repercussions of such foolish undertakings, one such repercussion being the horrible twang of guilt she suffered when the professor handed back their essays on vibrato... the essay Erik had written for her. Sure, she'd gotten the points, but she felt positively dreadful. Not only that, but her professor would likely expect all of her _other_ assignments to be up to par with Erik's work. She groaned again, this time from regret of her own irresponsibility.

"Do you need an asprin or something, Carmen?" asked Ava, "You keep groaning... It's kind of annoying."

"No. I'm fine."

"How's the rat-hater?"

"Bored."

Ava shuddered. "That's not good. He doesn't seem like the type that should be allowed to be bored... He might do something stupid to amuse himself."

Carmen was_ really_ tired... "Like drugs?" She had a fleeting mental image of Erik smoking a joint... something she _never _wanted to imagine again!

Ava slapped her forehead. "For someone who's clinically genius, you really _are_ a total moron!"

"Have I ever denied that?"

"Yes."

"Oh... You're right. I have." Carmen shrugged. Lately, she hadn't felt all that genius, not with Erik and his blasted superior intellect. It was a bit odd really, having someone smarter than her around 24/7... She'd gotten so used to being able to outwit everyone around her, and Erik was quite the check on her power.

Their attentions were jerked back up to the front of the room when their Professor (who was called Dravdin) started to speak again. Today, he was lecturing on the mechanics of sound, a subject that Carmen had throughly understood for years... She really hoped they would get past the reviews soon. Perhaps when they were covering new material, she would not feel the need to procrastinate solely to give herself a challenge. She had nothing due that day that she hadn't already finished, however, so Carmen was left with nothing better to do than to actually listen to her teacher...

The lecture seemed to last forever, and forever was a loooong time! Well, long enough for Carmen to fill her notebook with three pages of doodles of little round fuzz balls with giant, furry, hobbit feet... and some notes here and there, too...

Ava and Carmen hurried out of the building as soon as class was over. It had been an uneventful day thus far, but that would all come to an end shortly after they separated, Ava to go to her advanced composition class, and Carmen to her advanced calculus class (which she had to take as a graduation requirement, even though it had absolutely nothing to do with her major).

As Carmen cut through part of the city of Cincinnati, taking a short cut to the math department, she was a bit jumpy. She could have sworn that every time the city noise dimmed, she could hear footsteps behind her. She spun around at least twice a block, but never saw anyone... and still, every time the noise dimmed... there were those footsteps, and they sounded as though they were getting closer.

"Who's there?" she shouted finally. There was no reply, save for the sound of those footsteps. Two rats were fighting near a heaping dumpster that was rusting in the alleyway Carmen found herself standing in front of. She could still hear the footsteps... Was it just her imagination, or was there someone breathing down her neck... standing right behind her... She didn't want to know. Honestly, if she'd been cowardly enough to simply run, she would have done so and never blinked an eye, but Carmen Lenoir was no coward! "What do you want?" she snapped, "I haven't got any money-" As she turned to face her stalker, she couldn't help but scream. When she turned around, the man's greasy, pallid face was less than an inch from hers. He'd been inhaling deeply a moment ago, and for a moment, Carmen was confused... Until she noticed that he'd been holding her hair up to his face...

When she turned, the established nut case seemed to fall back into reality. He reacted too fast, grabbing her by the throat in the blink of an eye.

"Where is he?" snarled the man. He had the look of a demonic, forty-year-old teenager who hadn't washed his hair in a good year and a half. "He's not in your dorm, so where the hell are you hiding him?"

Carmen knew immediately that the man was referring to Erik... he had to be with that Stella girl- Wait! Why wasn't Erik in her dorm? Where had he gotten off to now?

"Did you check my sock drawer?" she gasped, desperate to make him as angry as possible.

"Shut up!" he snapped, "Where is Erik?"

"But you told me to shut up..."

His response was to hit Carmen. He backhanded her so hard that she when flying into the side of the dumpster, causing the rats to scatter. "What do you want with him anyways?"

"He will serve several vital purposes, all of which are for me to know and for you not to find out."

Carmen did not like the way the man had said the words "vital purposes". He made it sound as though Erik was going to become some sort of human sacrifice... Well, that was all the more reason for her to stall... "You made me bleed..."

Once again, Carmen received a violent answer, this time in the form of a strong kick to the stomach, made worse by the boots the man wore.

"Stop wasting my time, and tell me where he's hiding!"

"What if I told you I didn't know?"

"Then I'd say you were lying. I've been watching you, Carmen Lenoir. I've seen the way you look at him... or for him, rather. You're always glancing up at the dorm buildings... And the mall, oh yes! I saw you there with him. I wanted to hit you, you looked so goddamn smug! No... I think you're far too taken with your new roommate to lose track of him. However, I don't necessarily need Erik for everything I want to do... You'd make a fine offering if I do say so myself."

Carmen gasped. They really _did_ want a human sacrifice! In what must have been a cross between a thrash and a well-calculated twist, she almost managed to free herself, but the pallid greaseball that held her managed to regain his grasp and throw her back against the dumpster. "You little viper! You almost got away!"

The last thing Carmen could clearly remember was someone's knee colliding with her head. After that, she stayed awake for a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, but she couldn't see anything. The last thing she heard before she passed out was someone yelling in disgust, and then yelling again in anger.

* * *

Erik's little game of follow-the-Carmen had been amusing at first, an excellent way to stay in touch with his phantomness while affording himself some decent entertainment, until she had taken an unexpected turn into the city and he'd lost sight of her.

Now that he'd finally caught up with her, he was horrified to see that someone was bothering one of the few people that he'd even come close to regarding as a friend... no, not bothering her She was being attacked!

There was little Erik could do to help her from his vantage point, two stories above the scene on a fire escape ladder. He had no way of getting down to her without jumping to the ground, two stories below, a fall which was sure to turn the Phantom of the Opera into a nasty little grease splotch on the already filthy pavement... unless he were to jump into that large box filled with who-knows-what... but there was always the chance that it could be full of things that would be far more lethal than the concrete, things like nails or scrapped metal, or something equally unpleasant, but, Erik decided, it was a risk worth taking!

He was readying himself for the fall, when it occurred to him that he would be spotted and captured even as he was getting himself out of the metal box... he needed a distraction that would give him enough time to ready himself...

While Erik was thinking of a distraction, Carmen had made an admirable attempt at an escape. When her attacker kicked her head against the side of the metal box, Erik knew the situation had just grown from bad to worse. Clearly this man, whoever he was, was serious about whatever he was doing, and Carmen could be badly hurt!

Just then, a sudden gust of wind brought Erik to the perfect distraction. On the fire escape where he was perched sat a bag, a bag he had not noticed before. It was obviously someone's old garbage that had been carelessly tossed here, and for whatever reason, it's stench was positively repugnant!

Upon opening the bag, Erik quickly saw the source of the smell. Inside, he found at least twenty little off-while bundles, each sealed with tape and marked with the word "huggies".

Now, Erik had no idea what the word "huggies" stood for, but he imagined it would mean something along the lines of "remove detonator and fire" He untaped the bundle and fired upon his target. His first mark was a direct hit! The bomb landed squarely upon the head of Carmen's attacker, causing him to scream in pain as a yellowy-brown gloop enveloped his head.

Erik plunged into the dumpster like a WWII paratrooper on D-Day and prepared for action, arming himself with the same chair leg that he'd landed on in the dumpster, the garishly ornate designs of which would be adorning his leg in the form of bruises for months to come.

The poor idiot never saw it coming. Erik's "bomb" was barely off of his head (and definitely not out of his hair) when Erik brought the chair leg down on him, delivering a blow hard enough at least to give him a severe concussion, or perhaps even kill him.

Giving no thought to the stranger lying on the ground, he rushed to Carmen's aid. This was worse than the first day they'd met... much worse. "Carmen," he whispered, "Wake up!"

There was a terrible siren-like noise, a trisomy of dissonant notes that made Erik's finely-tuned ears ring with agony. Three cars came to a screeching halt in front of the alleyway where Erik knelt between two unconscious college students, one covered in blood and bruises, the other in baby feces. The flashing blue and red lights blinded Erik's already light-sensitive eyes so that he did not see the three men step out of the cars, armed with billy sticks, and handguns.

The next moment, Erik found himself standing against the front of one of the obnoxious, flashing vehicles (why they were using such bright lights in broad daylight was beyond him) while one man locked his hand together behind his back and another man babbled about how he had "the right to remain silent". Only one part of this man's speech had interested Erik, and that had been the first thing he'd said: "You are under arrest"

* * *

Okay, a nice little cliffhanger for you all! So, Erik's under arrest and the scary stalker man has experienced firsthand exactly why you do NOT mess with the Phantom of the Opera. Hehe... he'll pelt you with dirt diapers (hence the name D-Bomb)! So, tell me what you think! Are you sad? Overjoyed? Outraged? Dead? Or are you saving everything you can get from those babysitting jobs (just in case)?

Wait, funny story for you all! I am a total idiot! You know how I said, In the beginning of the chapter, that I messed up and called Ava "Georgia", well I did it again, only this time ,with every mention of her in the whole blasted chappie (which really isn't that bad, but It's really late and i wanna go to bed)... Okay, that really wasn't that funny, but like I said, it's late and I am sooo tired.


	9. Chapter Nine

Alas! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the street lamp, for it's 11:35!... Oh, now it's 11:36:slaps self: No! Bad! No running commentaries on what time it is! I have problems... But they're MINE! All for me, none for you! My problems! Back off! Hisssssssssss!

Oh yeah, Disclaimer: I don't own squat! I am a hobo and I live in a cardboard box... A cardboard box that it definitely NOT mine!

**TheGreatSporkWeilder:** Erik? Bodyguard? Um... sure. That'd be amusing, seeing Erik dive in front of a bullet. Nooooo! Erik can't get shot! That'd screw up my plot:does slow-motion dive and stops Erik from being gunned down by the angry gangsta: Wait a sec! Why do you need a bodyguard, hmm:eyes suspiciously: I'm onto you! Bwahaha!

**Sandra:** Strange nicknames rock! My nickname is Fish, or Pfish, or Phish... or Poisson d'Avril, or the All-Knowing-Everlasting-Immortal-Omniscient-Cherry-Flavored-Cheesecake... whichever you prefer, really. And be happy! There is more bad ass Erik-ness to come, so stay tuned!

**Marianne-Brandon: **Yeah, this chapter has a bit of drama, too. That's really not the way I'm going with this fic, though, so it'll be back to it's full-fledged funniness by next chapter. Much as I may try to keep this fic lighthearted, the drama writer in me refuses to back down, and thus comes chapters like the last one... :faints: Erik? Opium? Nooooo! Just say no, Erik! JUST SAY NO!

**friend5:** I love cliffies... :smirks: As for updating soon, well, this isn't too bad, is it? I try to update quickly, I really do, but I always get stuck right at the end... But this chapter is a lot longer than most of my other ones, so I hope that makes up for some of my slowness...

**Erik'sgirlfriend: **That bit was an afterthought, but I'm really glad I added it. That chapter really, really needed some comic relief. I laughed out loud when I thought of it, though, and people looked at me as though I were mad... which I am.

**Angeloftheoperahouse: **I'm glad you liked it! I was worried that I would be pelted with rotten fruit because of all the drama, so I'm so happy that no one's attacking me! Eep! No pelty with zee diapers, sil-vous plait? Yes, poor, arrested Erik... don't worry, though. Legally, there isn't enough evidence to hold him in contempt... (ah! Bad lawyerness! Stop taking up space in my brain!) Yay! My head is talented:does happy dance:

**Moon Avenger: **:glomps her bemasked muse: ERIK! I missed you:regains composure: Yay! You returned my buddy! Don't worry, he'll visit, I promise:mutters: fine, I'll feed him properly... :pouts and slumps off to Wally World (Wal-Mart) to expand her food stash:

**Schynchiro Kagemoru:** As for Erik being okay, you'll have to read and find out :smirks: Eep! Not the sporkies! Oh yes, about the Punjab... Now, I'd be a liar if I said I was an expert on the Punjab Lasso, but I can share with you what little I know... It's a Persian weapon that looks something like a noose, only shorter and with a few other differences that I'm not quite familiar with. Oh yeah, it's made of dried catgut (lovely, isn't it?). In the books, the punjab is Erik's weapon of choice... Hope that helps. I'd tell you more, but that's pretty much all I know.

**Seven: **Yeah, the dressing room guy could have been gay, too. Interpret it however you like, it won't effect the plot. :grins: Yep, she's got him all to herself... :glares jealously at Carmen: but forget about Christine? I wouldn't say he's forgotten her, far from it, in fact. I'd say he's simply distracted from his self-pity... stupid wench though she is...

**Solecito: **I know how you feel about the violence bit. Don't worry, the violence in this story is far and in between. I'm not a big fan of excessive violence either, but it gets sort of unavoidable every now and then. Be happy, though, this chapter is A LOT longer than the others. I know I took too long to update, and I'm sorry, but I've been really busy studying for finals and such. As soon as summer comes, I should be updating at least once a week, though!

**Affirmed Hope: **Erik and strife just seem to be magnetically attracted to each other. He just can't avoid it, can he? Oh well, at least he's good at getting himself out of it:points to chapter below:

Besides, strife is fun to write!

**Gem: **Your review made me so very happy! What will they do, you ask? Well, I'd tell you, but then there would be no point in reading chapter nine! The scary stalker folk are supposed to creep you out, heck they even creep me out, and I'm the one who wrote them into existence!

**DarogaDaae: **Oui, il est tres mal pour leur! (Translation: Yes, it's very bad for them :man, I wish my french were better... oh well) Mmmm... wiry... Hey wait a sec? A disaster beyond my imagination? You dare to threaten me? The authoress:earsplitting maniacal laughter emanates from the computer while thunder crashes in the background: I control all:zaps random passerby with thunderbolt: Fear my power! Mwahahaha! ... Ok, I'm done now...Really, I am...

Okay, so I lied. It's no longer 11:36. Now it's 1:51... p.m. Yes, I fell asleep at my desk while responding to reviews! What of it?

* * *

Chapter Nine: The Seventh Pineapple 

Carmen blinked her eyes open. All she could see at first was a big blur of various shades of off white, but when her vision slipped back into focus, the tubes, charts, and bad interior design told her that she was in a hospital... But why? She couldn't remember what had happened. There had been a creepy pale guy who wanted to hurt Erik and wore mean, painful, boots... and something about a dumpster... but everything else was a blur.

The door creaked open and a middle aged woman pushing a cart piled with gauzes, towels, pills, and other hospital-worthy items minced into the room, humming what sounded like elevator music.

"What happened to me?" Carmen demanded suddenly, realizing the nurse (or whatever she was) probably had even less of an idea of what had happened than she did.

The lady looked at her in an annoying kindly manner that made Carmen feel as though she were five. "Well, miss, you've suffered a rather nasty head injury. It came as the result of an attack in the streets, I believe."

Carmen sighed. That was nothing she hadn't known or couldn't have guessed before.

"Oh," said the nurse suddenly, "I believe there is a man outside who wants a word with you, but only if you feel up to it, of course. If you don't feel well enough, he says he'll be more than happy to wait."

Carmen shook her head, causing pain to shoot down her spine like little needles. She was fairly certain that Erik was the man in question, and she really wanted to talk to him, to warn him about the greasy man's plans to use him as some weird pagan sacrifice.

The door opened again and a man, whom Carmen was highly disappointed to note was definitely _not_ Erik, came into her room with a clipboard and seated himself next to her bed.

"Good morning." he said "I'm Inspector Berns, from the Cincinnati police department. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about what happened?"

"Go ahead."

"Alright, then. Let's start with the basics, then. Do you remember who did this to you?"

"It's still a bit fuzzy, but I remember a pale-skinned man with relatively long black hair, all black clothing, and some sort of boots."

The inspector squinted at Carmen as though he were waiting for her to say more. "Were there any major distinguishing characteristics?" he prompted... What was he looking for?

"No... You seem to be expecting something in particular. Why?"

The man...--Berns, he'd said his name was,-- seemed to stop for a moment, unable to decide whether or not Carmen was some evil spy pressing him for classified information. Apparently, he'd figured she was far too concussed to pose a threat, because he leaned in towards her and whispered "We have a suspect in custody. He's an extremely suspicious character... the man wears a mask... and we can't find a damn thing on him! Not so much as a birth certificate!"

The bed seemed suddenly to tilt sharply to one side as Carmen nearly fainted in horror. They had Erik! Inspector Berns took her reaction in the most annoying way possible.

"Do you know him! An old enemy, perhaps?" he asked eagerly.

Now, Carmen was fighting the urge to smack her guest with a lunch tray. Was he_ trying_ to be the world's most cliché "defective detective", or was it just in his nature?

* * *

Erik's cell was cold, dirty, uncomfortable, and above all... open. Now, all of these things he could come to terms with in time, but there was one particular feature that was so incredibly irritating that it was on the verge of driving poor, scarcely-sane, Erik permanently off the deep end... his cell mate. 

The man had been annoying from the start. The moment the police had shoved Erik into this sorry excuse for a room, he'd seen trouble. The man had immediately made a mad dash for the exit and gotten himself handcuffed to the cell's barred front wall. Now, he was whining like a wounded dog and rattling his chains in hopes that someone would come and unlock him. Meanwhile, Erik was trying to formulate a means of escape.

"Shut up, would you!" he finally snarled, "I can't think with all that damnable racket!"

"But... my cuffs are on too tight."

Erik stood up and strode across the cell, stopping when he was less than a foot away from the man. "Aww... you poor dear. Let me help you with that..." he sneered, tightening the handcuffs until the man whimpered in a most unmanly fashion before finally picking the lock with obvious ease. "If anyone sees you unlocked, remember that I had nothing to do with it..." he warned.

"That'd be kind of pointless, dude. They're watching us with cameras all the time."

Erik had no idea how anyone could be watching them with cameras, but he didn't doubt that someone had figured out a way in the past century or so. Not wanting to take chances, he promptly locked his cell mate to the bars again, hoping that the original unlocking had gone unnoticed.

"Hey!" the man cried.

"If you wanted to remain free, you should have kept your mouth shut." Erik said simply. Apparently, the fool could think of no intelligent response to this, so Erik was granted a sweet, however brief, period of silence... but like all good things, it would not last.

"So, what're you in for?"

"I have done nothing... or at least, not recently. I am innocent of the crime they are imprisoning me for."

"Right... Well, me, I'm man enough to admit that I am guilty. They've got me in here for sexual assault... and that's exactly what I did."

Erik shuddered in disgust. This man spoke of his wrongdoings with _pride_! True, they were nothing compared to the hundreds of murders he'd committed both independently and for pay, but at least he was properly ashamed of them! ...And what did he mean, exactly, by sexual assault? Had he simply been far too forward with a woman, or was he speaking about something far less innocent? Whatever it was, it was all Erik needed to decide that this man was going to be removed from his cell by tomorrow morning. The Phantom of the Opera was _not_ going to share such a small space with a man who was clearly unworthy of his company.

* * *

Inspector Berns was visibly disappointed by Carmen's testimony, and didn't ask much more of her. As soon as he'd asked his final question, Carmen had her own list of questions for him to answer. 

"Was anyone else there when you arrived?" she asked, "apart from the masked man, of course?"

The inspector nodded. "One other, unconscious, like yourself... Perhaps I should show you a picture of him?" he opened his briefcase and pulled out a photo. Carmen recognized the pallid face, long hair, and sallow features at once. The full recollection of what had happened that night came flooding back to her. She needed to warn Erik!

"That's him!" she cried, pointing at the man in the picture, "He's the one that attacked me!"

Carmen's nurse re-entered the room and gave Berns a sharp warning glance. "Miss Lenoir, you must calm yourself before you increase your injuries, and Mr. Berns! If you excite this lady any further, I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to leave!"

"Speaking of leaving, how long am I going to be here?" Carmen demanded.

"At least overnight, and that's only if you prove to have no serious injuries."

Carmen scowled. What a waste of time... "Okay, I promise I'll sit still." she said nastily, "You can go now."

"Cranky..." muttered the nurse, heading back out the door.

"Well," began Carmen, turning to face the inspector again, "As I was about to tell you, before I was interrupted, it was the man in the photo who assaulted me. I am fairly certain that the masked man is a friend of mine. He was probably trying to protect me, but I wouldn't know as I was unconscious when he came."

The inspector studied Carmen's bruised features as though he found something about her nose to be extremely fascinating. "He was protecting you, eh?... That's exactly what _he_ said."

Carmen sighed. She was already beginning to hate the American legal system. "What about the other guy? Is he awake yet? Have you talked to him?"

"Nope. He's still out... He got hit a lot harder than you..."

Eventually, Inspector Berns decided he was finished with Carmen and excused himself, leaving her alone to scheme. How could she get out of here before tomorrow? She was certain that she was already just fine and fully capable of walking. Erik was bound to be in a far worse predicament, wherever he was. After all, he didn't legally exist. What would the authorities make of a man with no recorded history?

* * *

That evening, Erik put his plan to rid himself of his troublesome roommate into action. He'd spotted the camera that he was apparently being watched through, and had carefully studied it all day. It had no way of possibly recording sound... And once he had the full cover of darkness he would be invisible to the mechanical eye. 

Finally his time came. The guards called "lights out" and everyone slipped into bed, but of course, no one actually went to sleep. In the pitch black, however, no one would be able to prove he'd done anything, if anything like that were to come to question. He said nothing, but merely stared at the man in the bed on the opposite end of the tiny room. Even in the pitch black, one could always tell when they were being watched...

When he heard whimpers of fright, he knew it was time for part two. He threw his voice so that it appeared to come from inside the man's own ears and softened it so he alone would hear it.

"_I am coming for you... Every breath you take draws me closer. You shall pay for your sins..."_

"St- Stop it!" whispered the man.

Erik pretended to be asleep and responded with a groan and a well chosen insult.

"_You are a foolish man, to think you can evade my wrath"_

"Stop it right now or I swear I'll come over there and show you what assault is really like!"

"You could try..." muttered Erik as though he'd just been woken, "But you might never live to see me bruise... Particularly if you wake me again."

"You said you were innocent... Y-you don't have the guts to kill me!"

"I said I was innocent of the crime for which they imprison me. There's a difference, although I suspect your limited mind may have some difficulty spelling out exactly what it is... Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep."

"_Yes... Just try and touch me. See what happens, why don't you?"_

Then, he snapped. "STOP TALKING IN MY HEAD!" There was a violent creaking noise that told Erik the man had flung himself from his bed. He made to hit Erik, bad Erik had been ready and curled himself into a defensive little ball that shielded him from anything too painful. But still, he blew the attack out of proportion, pleading for mercy and moaning in "agony". It wasn't long before policemen came and took Erik's "attacker" away. When he was almost out of the room, Erik lost his self control and whispered into the man's ear once more.

"_Au revoir."_

This made things worse, of course, but Erik couldn't honestly say that he cared.

He found that night's sleep to come easily after the sweet satisfaction of having used his mind for torment once again... not that he particularly enjoyed torment, but he was growing quite tired of letting his intellect gather dust.

* * *

The next morning was rather a pain.Erik had to speak with a judge, who set his bail at a fairy low rate after Erik had engaged him in a intellectual conversation about the opera "Romeo and Juliet". Personally, he'd never been particularly fond of the writer's interpretation of Shakespeare's literature, but he'd been more that willing to play the devil's advocate and side with the man setting his bail. 

That afternoon, however, Carmen finally arrived.

"Heavens child." Erik sighed, "This place you people call 'jail' is nothing compared to the jails in _my_ time. If we were in the eighteen hundreds, I'd being breaking rocks apart with a pickaxe right now."

Carmen rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure they would have made you walk fifteen miles through a blizzard to get there... and it would have been uphill... both ways."

"No, but I certainly wouldn't be allowed to simply sit idly in my cell all day."

"Whatever, Erik. It doesn't matter. I'm bailing you out."

"Excellent." Erik clapped his hands together, "I won't have to frighten away any more cell mates."

Carmen opened her mouth to inquire as the what Erik had done, but then decided that she didn't really want to know.

Paying bail evidently needed to be handled with the chief of police, who was a fat man with an astonishingly cliché obsession with doughnuts. Erik was forced to wait outside, handcuffed to a chair in the waiting room. He hated the way everyone was starting at him, and even more so, at his mask. He soon felt as though he was about to break free and strangle the next person who so much as glanced at him, so he diverted his attention to Carmen's conversation with the chief. Their conversation seemed to have turned into a heated argument, although he couldn't hear any specific words. All he could hear was angry voices and rustling papers.

A few minutes later, Carmen emerged with a large stack of papers and a self-satisfied grin on her face. "You're free," she said, "unless they can findsome _substanial_evidence to prove you worthy of any suspicion... but somehow, it seems they've misplaced your files, so we get this mound of paperwork to fill out. Isn't that just dandy?"

The overly-giddy tone of Carmen's voice told Erik quite clearly that she'd had quite the row with the chief of police... he wanted details, but that could wait until they were once again in the security of the dormitory.

He found himself waiting, once again, while Carmen called her friends for a ride back to campus, but they were outside now, where most people were far too busy to notice that the man waiting on the bench beside the telephone booth was wearing a strange, white mask. Either that or they were all too dizzy from the disgusting smell of the city that made even Erik, who had spent a fair amount of his life in Paris, want to breath through a filter lest he pass out.

Jessica and Ava arrived in good time. Erik had to help Carmen, who was still extremely bruised and sore, into the back seatof Georgia's car.

"So, we want to know what happened." Jessica demanded immediately. "Please tell me you didn't punjab anyone, Erik..."

Erik shook his head, "No, I hit him over the head with a piece of wood. He'll be fine."

"You did what?" cried Carmen, "That's barbaric!"

"Well, I didn't have much chance to find anything more sophisticated... Or would you rather I'd just left you there?"

"No, I'm glad you beat him to a pulp. I really worry about what he might have done with me after he knockedout... He was so weird. When I turned around, he was right there... smelling me."

Georgia made a loud gagging sound, "Eew! Spazzy stalking sex offender!"

Erik couldn't help but nod. He remembered all too well the man he'd shared his cell with... He certainly didn't anyone like _that_ after Carmen.

* * *

Back in the safety of their room, Carmen relayed everything she could remember of her conversation with the scary pale dude to Erik. 

"So, if I understand correctly, these people brought me here by some sort of evil magic as some sort of odd stunt, and now they plan to make use of me as a human sacrifice?"

Carmen nodded. "You make it sound like such an uncommon thing..."

Erik missed the sarcasm, "This sort of thing happens often! What sort of demented world do you live in!"

Carmen shook her head, "Ah, Erik, when will you learn that a good twenty percent of everything I say is sarcastic?"

"Liar. I've never heard you use sarcasm before now."

"Whatever... Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?"

Erik shrugged, "I don't know? What _is_ a movie?"

"It's like a play, only you watch it on that black, shiny, box over there and it looks a lot more like real life than the plays you're used to... They can be like operas, too, I guess, but I don't think I have any decent musicals with me." she inspected her DVD library for any musical that wasn't about anything that would but Erik in a bad mood, but found nothing, so she grabbed a handful of movies. "Well, I'll let you pick."

Erik looked at the covers for a second, then chose a movie randomly.

"Ah ha..." smirked Carmen, trying hard to hold back fits of laughter, "The Lizzie McGuire movie, Erik? I really don't think you'd like that one..."

Erik looked at the movie he'd selected for the first time. It had a picture of an annoyingly gleeful looking blonde girl on the cover... "Er.. Yes, I agree." he muttered "So much for the values of random selection." This time, he actually looked at the covers as he chose...

"Ah, the Lord of the Rings, eh? Much better... Although maybe someday I _will_ make you watch the Lizzie McGuire Movie. I'm curious as to how long you'd survive before the excessive cuteness caused you to implode. My current guess is about seven seconds."

Erik blinked. Carmen was a very odd girl...

* * *

And so ends our beloved ninth chapter. Perhaps it may seem that all is well, for now at least, but someone has gotten wind of Carmen's injuries... someone that was supposed to be out of the picture for several more chapters... Who is it? What will they do? Did they bring me any food? Tune in next time to find out! 

And review... I really, really, like reviews!


	10. Chapter Ten

I have another nice, long chapter for you! I've finally gotten away from the necessary drama, though (Well... mostly. There's still a little bit...). Anyways, I'm too lazy to write more notes than this, so meh...

Disclaimer: I don't own it... regretfully.

**friend5**: Thankies! I'm so glad you like! This chapter's even better. It's longer than the last one (like, ten pages on the word processor without the review replies...) Plus, I didn't take forever to update!

**Angeloftheoperahouse**: Hay for tuning in! (oops... I meant yay, but it's a funny typo, so it stays) And for beef stroganoff, too! I love beef stroganoff... Bad! No being anorexic! Wait a sec... why, exactly, do you feel like Carlotta? Are you shouting for your doggie and your something else that I can't understand?

**Marianne** **Brandon: **Thank you! Don't worry, I would never actually try to scar Erik by forcing him to watch Lizzie McGuire (besides, it'd be really hard to force him to do anything...). Honestly, what kind of mean, sadistic phan do you take me for? Oh! Moulin Rouge? I love that movie! It probably _would_ put Erik in a terrible mood though... sigh I'll just have to wait until he's less sensitive...

**DarogaDaae: **It's the "fellowship of the rings". Hmm... I hadn't thought about the extended versions... Well, I'll just say it's extended, then, because I love the scene in Lorien where everyone is speaking elvish and they make Gimli mad... I have to ask... what goopy mess are you talking about:is confused:

**Sandra: **I really do adore bad-ass Erik... he's so fun to write! As for the creepy guy, you'll find out what happens to him in the next chapter (I think...). You know what? I hope he _dies _in the hospital, but then it would have technically been a murder on Erik's behalf... and it would screw up the plot if Mr. Creepo snuffed it...

**Affirmed Hope:** Ah! At first I thought you were talking about an Erik/ Hilary Duff pairing... man, that'd be sooooooooo weird, even for a humor fic! I know what else you could say! You could say ermfleschnarghghghghg moorlnock eigreickenskopel bladvot!... Okay, I have issues... I like them. They're my friends!

**Gem: **Yes, I agree. Carmen isn't really te type to own the Lizzie McGuire movie... You'll find out why she has it in this chappie, though. grins As for the seventh pineapple, it has absolutely nothing to do with the chapter. I was just too lazy to think up a coherent chapter name... so I didn't. I can't believe it! I read the blasted chapter over twice for errors before i uploaded it, and I _still _managed to call her "Georgia"! I am such a moron sometimes... I would change her name, but I'm currently co-writing another fic with the same person I based most of Ava's character off of and one of the main character's names is Georgia, so I can't change Ava's name.

**RebbeccaTurner01: **Go you! Go you! What? Cruel and unusual punishment? Where? Don't worry, I wouldn't dare try and scar Erik like that! I'm not that mean! I swear it!

**Moon Avenger: **Oh my god! Winnie the Pooh? Poor Erik! _I _can't even watch that without writhing on the floor... of course, I'm about as tolerant of things like that as Erik is... So, if I tell you that you have grammar issues, do I get a doughnut, too? Or is it just an Erik thing? Oh, and for the record, I'd like to point out the M. Le Phantom is very well-fed in this chapter...

**AJNemo: **Too entertaining for your own good? No, my friend, you can never have too much of a good thing. grows a beard in a pathetic attempt to look wise... ends up going all short and wrinkly like Yoda Use the force...

* * *

Chapter 10: A Skeleton in The Closet

As Erik watched the movie, Carmen watched the Erik, who was proving himself to be just as entertaining as the Lord of the Rings. He was so utterly immersed in the trilogy's first installment that he would frequently fail miserably in his attempts to eat popcorn and poke himself in the eye with a kernel. By the time the hobbits had reached Rivendell, Erik had, by Carmen's count, poked himself no less than nine times.

About halfway though the movie, their popcorn supply ran out, so Carmen reached for the remote control to pause the movie and declare an intermission, but as she felt around for it in the space that lay between herself and Erik on the futon, she realized that Erik must have moved it in order to prevent her from doing exactly what she was trying to do. Apparently, he was more interested in watching the movie than in hogging a second bag of popcorn.

As she probed the space between them one last time in vain search of the remote, her fingers met Erik's hand, and they both received quite the shock. Erik was jolted from the movie just long enough to look at her as though she were completely insane and pull his hand away. Carmen, too, moved her hand as quickly as if it had touched something very, very hot, but instead of looking at Erik, she turned bright red... just like she always did whenever anything like this happened.

Erik mentally cursed himself for having moved his hand away. If he'd kept still, perhaps Carmen would have done the same, and– No! He wouldn't even think about that! Not _again_, and _certainly _not a mere one month, one week, and six days since his heart had been smashed into a million tiny pieces... not that he was keeping count or anything... Already, he felt disgusted with himself for _almost_ having been so fickle! He'd spent so much time chasing Christine... How _dare_ he forget her, even if it was only for a moment...

A loud, booming yell brought Erik's attention back to the movie just in time for him to watch the wizard who led the fellowship plummet into a black abyss. He wished the bridge would crumble just a bit more and send that annoying, blonde, foppy elf down into the pit as well, but he knew it wouldn't... fops always won. Damn them...

He spent the rest of the movie hating various fops... namely the Viscomte. However, he continued to follow the plot, and was properly annoyed when the first movie ended with everyone's splitting up, leaving the viewer to wonder what became of middle earth.

"_That's_ how it ends?" he wondered aloud.

"No," Carmen explained, "There are two more movies that finish the story."

"Do you have them?"

"Yeah."

"May we watch them?"

Carmen grinned. "Why not?" After all, there was no way that she would be expected to be in classes tomorrow, not when she'd only been released from the hospital that day...

As so, they watched "The Two Towers", during which Erik's dislike for Legolas grew into a mad urge to kill the stupid elf, and then, "The Return of the King", during which the phone rang and scared both Carmen and Erik into next year.

Carmen wondered who in their right mind would be calling anyone this late at night, but then she checked the clock and realized that it was nearly seven in the morning... their little movie marathon had lasted all night...

And that stupid phone wasn't going to answer itself.

"...Hello." she yawned into the receiver.

She was answered by a woman singing as though she were in a garish, Norwegian opera. "HelloOoOo, CaAarmenNnNn!"

Carmen groaned. "Mom, stop it. You're hurting my ears."

"Sorry... I though it sounded pretty."

"Liar. That was painfully sharp and you know it... So, any particular reason you're calling, or did you just need someone to mentally scar?"

"Any particular reason? My oldest daughter spent monday night in a hospital! I think you know why I'm calling!... Oh yes, and we're coming to see if you're all right. Don't try to stop us, because we're already in Ohio and nothing you can say will make us turn around... We should be there in oh, say... a half an hour."

Carmen blanched... this was bad. Very, very bad! "Well... I'll um, see you then, okay? Bye!"

She didn't wait for a response before hanging up. Erik had obviously been watching her, because he was looking at her in a most concerned manner.

"What's wrong?"

"Parents... coming... thirty minutes... I am _so_ dead!"

"Why?"

"Well, first of all, there's a strange man in my room and it's seven in the morning!"

"Why should it matter? Just explain the situation, and–"

"Oh yes, I can see it now! Hello mum and dad. This is Erik. He's from the late eighteen hundreds... Sure it sounds crazy, but I swear it's true. One day it was just like, poof! And all of a sudden he showed up and got himself tangled in my bathroom, but it turns out he was really _summoned_ here by my witch ex-roommate, but now he lives with me because he doesn't understand traffic lights and almost got himself flattened by a semi truck! Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you, HE'S THE BLOODY PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" All of this came in one breath, and by the end of her rant, Erik was worried that Carmen would keel over.

"Well, fine. I'm a fellow music major who came to visit you before class starts because you didn't understand the last few pages of your reading assignment."

"Two problems: One; that sounds exactly like one of my more pathetic excuses, and two; my parents have known me long enough to understand that I never fail to understand anything I read" Carmen muttered as she hastily tidied the room, taking special care to get all of Erik's clothes out of sight... If her father came in and saw a pair of boxers on her floor... Her college career would be over before she could say "What? You don't like my new shorts?"... not that Erik was enough of a slob to leave his boxers on the floor, of course, but he wasn't exactly neat, either. "."

Erik sighed, "Really now, that can't distrust you as severely as that..."

"Normally, they wouldn't, but they're so scared of me going off to college and coming back pregnant that the second they see anything to suggest that there has been a man within a hundred feet of my room, they'll immediately think I've sold myself into prostitution." Carmen explained.

"I see... perhaps I should hide in Jessica and Ava's room..."

She shook her head, "They'll be in classes by now, and they've been locking their door ever since Stella broke into my room..."

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to make an excellent impression, then." said Erik, resigned.

"I guess... Help me pick things up, would you?"

Erik sighed and help Carmen find all of the tiny, ripped-up bits of paper that had somehow managed to find their way into every nook cranny, and obvious corner. What he failed to mention, however, was that the only reason the tiny pieces of paper were there in the first place was because he'd gotten bored while she was in classes and tried to make a giant mosaic on every flat surface in the room... It had looked rather nice, but he'd forgotten to close the window before he started working, and the first gust of wind produced an effect not dissimilar to being inside of a snow globe... He'd cleaned most of it up (while subconsciously humming "The First Noel"), but the opera ghost had never been one for cleaning any spot on the floor that one would not use for walking.

By the time Carmen's room was satisfactory, the half an hour was nearly up. An idea as to where she could hide Erik popped into Carmen's head, but before she could tell Erik, they heard voices in the hallway.

"Blast! Of all times for them to be early, they pick now!" Without another word, she turned and headbutted Erik into the closet unceremoniously.

"What the–?"

"You're hiding."

Erik's response came in the form of a curse and some incomprehensible muttering.

"Erik, shut up! They're nearly here!"

No, that was a lie, her family was right outside her door, waiting to be let in.

The second Carmen opened the door, she was nearly tackled by her mother, who didn't have the self-restraint to warn her before she rushed at her with a hug. "We were so worried!"

"Actually, _she_ was the only one worried." muttered Alyssa, the older of Carmen's two younger sisters. "We're just here to get our DVD back..."

"Aww... do the poor wikkle preteens want their wittle Lizzie McGuire DVD back?"

"I'm _not_ a preteen! Give me back my movie!"

"You should have thought about that _before_ you left it in my room..."

"That's enough!" snapped Carmen's mother. "Carmen, give them back their movie."

"Fine..." Carmen pouted and handed the Lizzie McGuire movie back to it's rightful preteen owners, a little disheartened to have lost her tool of Erik torture. "Well, come on in, then– Sarah and Alyssa, stay out of my stuff or you will both die a slow and painful death."

"So?" Alyssa asked, making herself at home on the futon while she finished off the rest of Erik's third bag of popcorn. "Got yourself a boyfriend yet.. A _real _one, that is?"

"Shut up."she growled... when would that preppy little brat tire of reminding her that she, as a seventh grader, had been asked out to a dance before Carmen had?

"Alyssa! Your sister just got out of the hospital. Don't irritate her." snapped Carmen's father, a tall imposing man that owned his own corporation and smiled only when business deals came through and when watching Saturday night live bash Michael Jackson. Carmen was actually very surprised that he had come. Helping her move into her room had been one thing, but coming to see her for something less than a life-scarring tragedy... it was just too much...

"So, have they gotten any suspects yet?" he asked her.

"Um, they had one, but that was when I was still unconscious. As soon as I woke up, I had to inform them that the man they'd arrested was actually a friend of mine, who had actually defended me... But when the police got there, he had the guy knocked out, but since he was the only conscious person on the scene, they arrested _him_... But I got that all cleared up right away."

"Hm... sounds like you've made yourself some decent friends. What's his name?"

"Erik." Obviously, her dad had expected a last name as well, but to be truthful, Erik had never told Carmen his last name, and she wasn't about to make one up for him.

They rambled on for some time about the attack, but Carmen wasn't paying much attention to the conversation. She was too busy forcing herself not to look at her closet... Poor Erik, cooped up in her closet with all the shoes and coats and other random things that didn't look right just sitting out in her room. How much longer would he be able to stand it in there? What if he had to go to the bathroom? She really hoped he wasn't mad at her...

"Hey, Carmen!" cried Sarah, "You built a really awesome house on the sims!"

"Sarah! Get off of my computer!"

"But... I was bored."

Carmen looked over her sister's shoulder at the house that was apparently so impressive. Funny, she couldn't remember having built it... It _was _impressive, though. Far more impressive than she usually made her houses. It looked as though it had been designed by a professional architect-- of course... Erik must have discovered the sims and built it...

Now everyone was looking at the house. "Well, now I can say that I'm impressed by both of your houses, the one on the computer... and this room. Carmen, have you finally outgrown your messiness, or have you stuffed everything in the closet?" her mother joked.

"No, I cleaned up a bit when you said you were coming, but I haven't had a chance to really trash this place yet."

"Well, I think I'll have to check the closet, just in case."

Maybe her mother was laughing, but Carmen was doing nothing of the sort. If she kept them from looking in her closet, they would get suspicious, but if she didn't...they'd find Erik...

The closet door creaked open...

Now, I could be cruel and end the chapter right now... But that would be incredibly mean! On the other hand, I _am _mean!... Hmm... what to do, what to do...

Oh fine, I'll continue, then. Please ignore any horrid grammatical oopsies on my behalf... I'm so tired that I am repeatedly misspelling the word "I"... I know you're laughing at me right now. It's not nice... you're going to make me cry! Then you'll feel bad! Ha!

Like I said... very tired... BUT I'M DETERMINED TO UPDATE IN A TIMELY MANNER! ONWARD HO!

Erik had no warning! All of a sudden, the closet door opened, and a strange woman was standing in front of him with her mouth hanging open wide enough to rival even the fabled chops of his angel!

"Hello..." he said, not knowing what else could be said to break the awkward silence.

Carmen gave an unhinged, nervous little laugh. "Hi there, Erik..."

"What were you doing in my daughter's closet?" Carmen's father demanded.

Erik shuddered, in front of him stood the most intimidating man he'd ever laid eyes on... except perhaps for himself, but most of his intimidating-ness was due to his reputation, which had not followed him into the twenty-first century. "Well, I came by this morning before classes to see if Carmen had gotten back from the hospital alright, and when I got here, she said she wanted an extra pillow, so I went into her closet to fetch one, but I accidentally knocked the door closed and got stuck in there because the door only opens from the outside... I assume you must have fallen asleep again, Carmen, because I tried to tell you I was in here, but you didn't respond..."

He prayed that his excuse would be accepted. It was bad, he knew, but it was the best he could do on such short notice...

"Oh, Erik! I'm so sorry! I fell asleep before you locked yourself in, or else I swear I would have let you out! How long were you in there?" Carmen asked in an assumed tone of concern.

"Not too long..." Erik mused, trying his best to sound like a college student, "maybe an hour, tops?"

Carmen's dad was obviously skeptical, but apparently, he didn't want to make an idiot of himself by interrogating the man who had just saved his daughter from a "mugger"

"... So, you like The Phantom of the Opera, do you?" he began awkwardly, trying to find something upon which to start a normal conversation.

At first, Erik thought he'd meant the person... as in, himself... but that would make no sense, so he assumed Carmen's father was talking about the book. "Oh, you mean the mask? Actually, I really _was_ born with a rather unpleasant deformity, so I wear this as not to disturb those around me. But yes, I have read the book, and naturally, I loved it."

"Oh really? Carmen tells me the phantom dies at the end, after losing the love of his life, having lived a hellish life of torment and misery. I'd have thought you might have made a connection with him because of the whole mask thing..."

_Oops..._ Erik thought. _Wait! I die! _Well, no time to ponder upon that... he had to fix his little... mistake.

"But the phantom himself is a highly admirable character. Throughout his life, he remains nothing more than a tormented and shunned mastermind who wants nothing more than to live like everyone else. The fact that fate turns his life into a twisted mess of trials doesn't change the fact that he is, in character, an excellent fellow."

"I see..."

Carmen sniggered. How amusing it was, to see the two men discussing a book that neither of them had read. She couldn't help but laugh at Erik's blatant self-flattery... excellent fellow, indeed! Just so long as he didn't try to add modesty to the list of the Phantom's positive characteristics...

"Well, I think we should take these two out for breakfast." suggested Carmen's mother, "That is, if Erik won't be missed in his classes."

_No,_ Erik thought _They won't even notice I'm gone... Mostly because I was never supposed to be there in the first place..._

"No, I'm far too late to come now. Even if I were to try, they wouldn't let me in." he lied. He positively _hated_ trying to speak like a college student... The sheer awkwardness of it made him want to cringe...

"Well, that settles it." said Carmen's father, as though his opinion were the deciding factor... which it probably was. "Does anyone have any favorites?"

Carmen said she didn't, so her mother turned to Erik, who really hadn't expected to have a say in the matter. However, he did not know any good restaurants, so it hardly mattered.

Eventually, they ended up in a relatively comfortable place, situated in the city's "wealthy quarter". Erik was surprised the atmosphere rather to his liking... Unlike every other public building he'd been in so far, the interior was tasteful, with sparkling crystal statues gracing the otherwise uninteresting corners of most of the rooms... The ceiling was painted much like in his own operahouse. Hanging in the middle of the main dining room, Erik gleefully noted, was a large, elaborate, crystal chandelier. His mind flew back to the opening night of _Don Juan Triumphant, _the opera that had quite literally "brought down the house"... He would have found that entire ordeal extraordinarily funnyhad the situation not been so terribly dreadful. After all, the chandelier crash itself had not been all that fatal. He distinctly remembered reading that there had only been three deaths during the disaster, one killed by the chandelier as it plummeted into the audience, another trapped backstage and consumed by flame, and the third (for which Erik took no responsibility whatsoever) shot when a policeman had fired his musket in order to try and gain the attention of the masses. Meanwhile, Erik had noticed the fools behaving in a most amusing manner, running headlong into columns, trying to barge through the doors armed with music stands, and even shouting insults at the flames as though doing so would hurt the fire's feelings and send it home in tears... Okay, perhaps it wasn't all that funny, but Erik had always sported a rather twisted sense of humor.

"Sir? Your order. Please?"

Erik was jolted out of his reminiscence by a waitress. A little embarrassed, he quickly ordered the first thing he spotted on the menu, chicken noodle soup.

"Earth to Erik..." muttered Carmen, who was seated in the chair to left of his own.

Her final order collected, the waitress sidled back to the kitchens, leaving Erik alone as the only non-Lenoir at the table. It was rather unnerving, he decided, to have Carmen's father watching his every movement as though something as simple as scratching the unmasked half of one's nose could betray some explanation of the precise nature of one's relationship with the daughter of a certain prominent businessman...

He was testing him, Erik realized. That was why they were in such an exclusive establishment; Carmen's father clearly wanted to see if Erik could behave like a gentleman... It was almost insulting, to think that _he_ would have any difficulty in the well-mannered turns of high society!

He wanted to speak up and reassure him that he and Carmen were friends... and nothing more, but to do so would mean failing dismally at the test set before him... and if there was one thing Erik hated even more than people staring at him, it was losing!

The first item to be brought out to them was their drinks. Erik had resisted the temptation of the fine french vineyard selects that he missed so adamantly in favor of a cup of tea, not because he preferred tea, but because it would have been horridly impolite of him to order something so costly... and at the moment, sticking to those obnoxious guidelines of proper etiquette was his first priority.

So he drank his tea with his pinky out, kept his elbows off of the table, abstained from crucifying the side dishes, and above all, kept his condescending comments to himself as mealtime conversation was dominated by Carmen's little sisters... _Now, Erik?_ He'd repeatedly asked herself, _How would it look if you were to make these little girls cry... There's probably no quicker way to lose... _Yes... all he had to do was focus on winning.

After what seemed like an eternity, breakfast was finally over. He'd done it! Carmen's dad had been glaring the entire time... just waiting for make the wrong choice... to use his dessert spoon in his soup... and Erik had successfully shown him up! He risked a little smirk that said, quite clearly, _I win!_

After breakfast, they returned to Carmen's room (as her mother had not wanted her to be standing for too long). Her father was still glaring at Erik, who was beginning to get the impression that his eyes had gotten stuck in that angry-looking half squint... It made him look something like a very peeved avocado... raisin... thing...

Meanwhile, Sarah was playing the sims. Erik was positively horrified to find that she had taken to "finishing" his house. Yes, perhaps he hadn't quite gotten around to putting in wallpapers and floors, but that did NOT mean that she had the right to put lime green carpeting with ugly, bright blue walls! The humanity of it all!

He'd reached for solace in his unfinished bag of popcorn, only to find that Alyssa had taken the liberty of finishing off the last kernels right before his eyes! How dare she!

Then, just Erik's fingers were about to succumb to their longings to wrap themselves around the throats of Carmen's intrusive, popcorn-eating, ugly-house-making, little sisters, a phone rang. It sounded nothing like Carmen's phone, so he simply assumed it was coming from another room... until Erik's father whipped a tiny silver thing out of his pocket and started talking to it. His conversation, although Erik didn't bother to listen to what he was actually saying, grew gradually more and more heated, and eventually, the man put the tiny phone back into his pocket.

"They're having problems back at the shop. We need to get home, pronto!" he announced.

Erik's insides did a joyous backflip. They were leaving! Oh happy, happy, happy day! Carmen's mother seemed a bit miffed that they had to leave so soon, but she obviously knew that her husband was the authority, and thus, she said her regretful goodbyes.

The Opera Ghost waited until the foursome had been gone for a good five minutes before rushing the computer and frantically fixing the hideous carpeting-wallpaper combos. It almost hurt his eyes just looking at them!

Carmen giggled (something Erik had _never_ heard he do before). "You should see what she's done to some of _my_ houses. That's pretty tame, if you ask me."

"Tame! This is an assault on all that is tasteful!" Erik cried.

"She didn't have time to put objects in... it makes everything about a thousand times weirder and takes twice as long to get rid of."

Erik shuddered... "You were right, I might add, they _did _jump to ridiculous conclusions! You must have noticed that your father's gaze never left me while we eating breakfast."

"Did you notice that my mom kept kicking him underneath the table?" she laughed. "It looked like an extremely violent game of footsie."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "I didn't... and what is footsie?"

"It's when you kick at someone beneath the table and try to annoy the hell out of them."

"Pathetic..." he muttered, "absolutely pathetic..."

* * *

Well, maybe it isn't the greatest place to end the chapter, but if I don't stop now, I'm going to end up writing another ten pages and then this chapter will _never_ get up... so I'll just end now.

I don't know how soon I'll have chapter eleven up. This week and next week are going to be completely chaotic, but after that, I'll have nothing to do, so updates will be nice and speedy.

I really like reviews... really, really like them... they make me update much quicker and spur me on the write more really long chapters like this one.

Oh yes, I just thought I'd point out, for your appreciation, the enormous amount of willpower it took to not crack any "coming out of the closet" jokes. I almost did, but then I realized that i would be taking that chapter in the entirely wrong direction if I did... so I refrained.

I was wondering, what does everyone think of the new star wars movie? I'm supposed to be going to see it sometime soon, and I'm curious what people think. (Come to think of it, I should probably watch the other movies, too...)


	11. Chapter Eleven

So, yeah... next chappie. I think I'm going insane... permanently... Right, chappie notes... it took me longer to get this chapter up than I expected, sorry 'bout that, folks, but I've been sick for like, forever. I have anemia right now, and for the past few weeks I've been sleeping ninety percent of my time sleeping, but I'm getting better now, so I've finally been awake long enough to finish chapter eleven. On a different note, yes, the beginning of the chapter is totally bizzare. Maybe you'll find it funny, maybe you won't, but either way, just know that I _haven't _lost the ability to write in a sane and understandable manner, I am simply choosing not to

Oh yes! The number of reviews that chapter 10 received left me positively ecstatic! You guys rock! For time's sake, I'm going to skip the review replies and head straight to the story. Don't worry, I'll reply to both chapters in chapter twelve.

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda... I'm lazy, so go look at another chapter if you feel the need to have a witty disclaimer.

* * *

Chapter 11: Confusion and Confession

Erik shook himself dry after crawling out of the blaze orange waters of the underground lake. His house (or lair, if you do so prefer) was arrayed before him in a brilliant show of golds, reds, grays, and eggshells tinged ever-so-slightly with blues.

"Have a nice swim?" asked Christine, coming out to greet him in a revealing blue-green bathrobe and matching fez.

"Excellent– wait! What are you doing here?" Erik asked suddenly, "You left with the fop..."

"I'm _not_ here." she replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm in Napoleon's left nostril."

For some reason, he found absolutely nothing wrong with Christine's mildly insane reply and made no further inquiries.

Christine barked, tossed him a towel on a very decorative coat hanger, and promptly turned into one of Carlotta's poodles.

Erik blinked. Perhaps if he looked pathetic enough, the poodle would turn back into Christine... It did nothing of the sort. Instead, it turned into Carmen, only she was wearing Christine's gala costume.

"Hiya, Erik!" she said. Clearly, she found nothing about randomly finding one's self in a cave, wearing in a large, poofy dress, to be particularly odd.

_Just as well_, he thought "Carmen, aren't you late for classes?" he asked for a reason unknown even to himself.

"Dammit!... Oh well. Classes are for rabbits!"

For some reason, Erik found this talk of rabbit classes to be extraordinarily romantic. He was leaning forward to kiss her, when Carmen suddenly screamed and pushed him backward into a rather large mushroom. It was only then that he realized that his face was unmasked.

Then he was alone, all alone on the stage of the Opera Populaire, in front of a full house... wearing absolutely nothing.

The laughter grew louder until Erik was certain that his head would explode. The heads of the audience swelled, threatening to engulf him in their rapidly expanding oral cavities.

"Please... stop... leave me alone..." he sobbed, trying to hide behind a curtain, which promptly realized it's lifelong dream of becoming a duck, quacked angrily at him, and waddled off.

"Get up, you fiend!" cried Raoul, who had somehow managed to become frighteningly muscular and was holding a sword, ready to him himself an Erik-kabob. He brought the sword downwards. Erik grimaced as he prepared himself for the bite of cold steel... and death, he realized with some amusement, at the hands of Raoul-on-steroids.

The sword never touched him, for Erik awoke a moment later, tangled in his bedsheets (hmm... were they winding?). He was still in Carmen's dorm.. It had been a dream– no, a nightmare... He _never _had dreams anymore.

* * *

"Erik! Are you okay? " Carmen asked worriedly. She looked as though she'd been trying to wake him for some time.

"Just fine... I had an extremely _odd_ nightmare. I apologize for having woken you."

"Actually, I was just on my way to class when you started talking about poodles and seductive rabbits, and then you sort of started convulsing and whimpering, so I decided to wake you up."

"Heaven's, I've slept far too late."

"What?" Carmen asked sarcastically, "Are you going to be late for something?"

"I hate it when I sleep late like that..."

"You are _so_ weird, Erik."

Erik nodded.

* * *

"You were right, my dear. The Opera Ghost is indeed, a very capable foe. I was a fool to underestimate him."

Stella nodded, "I warned you, Damien. Did I not tell you to be careful of him?"

"Isn't a week and a half in that accursed hospital punishment enough for my foolishness without having to endure your constant nagging, woman?" Damien snapped.

"Yes it is. I beg your pardon." Stella bowed her head and took a step backwards.

"That's what I thought." he sneered. "Now, I doubt we'll be able to get the Phantom while that idiot girl stands guard over him like some sort of deranged mother hen. We'll have to separate them somehow."

"But we've already tried to get him during the day when she's gone–..."

"No, you idiot! I mean we shall have to instigate a fight between them."

"Oh... But we know nothing about the girl. We have no idea what sort of thing makes her angry..."

"So we'll just have to keep trying until we can get him to hit a nerve."

Stella thought about it, her brow furrowed with contemplation, "Alright. What shall we try first?"

* * *

Erik dressed himself quickly and headed outside for a quick walk to clear his head. After living for so long in the bowels of the Opera Populaire, he was coming to realize once again how wonderful it was to have a bit of fresh air once in a while.

He did not walk for long, for he was still fearful of being spotted and pointed out by some student. That was the last thing he needed, another reason to kill... He longed for his cloak as the surprisingly cold wind bit at the unmasked side of his face. Autumn must come earlier in Cincinnati than it did in Paris...

* * *

Stella gave a furtive glance down the hallway, waiting until she was positively certain that the Phantom would not glance over his shoulder and spot her before she tiptoed into her old dorm room. _Strange..._ she thought, _he doesn't seem like the type that would leave without locking the door behind him. He must plan on coming back soon. _

Quickly, she opened the closet and deposited the bag of... "beverages". She sincerely hoped that her ex-roommate had a thing about people who drank. After all, she'd read the novel. She knew that Erik was "a great lover of good wine" or something to that effect. Certainly he would miss the taste of fine liquor after nearly a month... and if it turned out to be far stronger than he could have possibly imagined, well, that was just too bad, wasn't it?

Fighting to keep her evil laughter inside her, Stella made her exit. Just as she turned the corner, she heard the door at the other end of the hallway creak open and shut. Perhaps it was _him_, heading back to his room... and heading straight for her trap.

* * *

Erik returned to the room, feeling refreshed, although none the more sure of himself... Well, there was only one certain way to deal with nightmares, and the confusing pictures they provided, and that was to ignore them altogether.

He started playing the keyboard, but his thoughts began to wander towards Carmen. How did he feel about her? And Christine? How could he be so fickle, so disloyal? He was playing a passionately confused melody, now. He hadn't been playing and piece in particular, just making things up as he went along. His hands, so used to the organ, meant to move to the next level of keys, only to be harshly reminded of the lack thereof when his fingers ran into the wall.

Well, so much for the keyboard, then. He did not want to run the risk of doing that again... So what to do, now? How to distract himself? Alas, the sugary allure of the sherbert... it called to him from Carmen's freezer, inviting him to have a taste, assuring him that he would not get carried away and eat the entire carton, thereby incurring the wrath of the Carmen.

A moment later, Erik was ripping of the cover that kept him from his prize and enveloping himself in the ice-cold, sugary goodness. Who cared if he ate it all? So long as he had his solace, he could endure anything his roommate tried to throw at him (physically or verbally).

The sugar high distracted Erik for a good long while, long enough to get through the first half of the day, even; however, when the electric current that the sugar sent soaring through his body began to fade, he found himself longing, once again, for something to dull his painfully sharp, overly contemplative intellect.

* * *

Carmen returned from classes that day and for what seemed like the thousandth time, found the room devoid of any life in the form of Erik (life in the form of random weird bugs, however, was becoming obnoxiously commonplace). "Shit..." she swore to herself. Was Erik simply incapable of staying put, or did he enjoy making her worry like this? Probably a combination of the two, she decided.

Choosing not to worry for the time being, Carmen seated herself on the futon... It smelled of Erik, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, particularly since he'd convinced her that it was absolutely bizzare that he had to commandeer her shampoo and thus smelled like a particularly girly combination of roses and "ocean mist"... although he'd had the audacity to point out that ocean mist was unlikely to smell very attractive as it was comprised mostly of salt and fish-infested water.

Carmen had the audacity to point out that most water was, in fact, fish infested.

Erik had provided the example of a puddle.

Carmen had advised him to look a bit closer at the next puddle he came across and try and tell her that there were no fish in it.

Erik had promptly called her insane, giving her perfect grounds to point out that insane people had no idea what manly shampoo smelled like.

And thus, Erik had accompanied her on his first ever trip to Wal-Mart...Oh, how she'd laughed when the greeter had tried to give him a smiley sticker.

On the way out, Erik had come across a puddle, stared at it for at least thirty seconds, and gleefully announced that it was completely fishless, but when he looked back down at it there had been a goldfish cracker floating in it. Carmen was holding an opened bag of cheesy, crackery, goodness... whistling innocently.

Stupid Erik... right all the time... but then again, it had been _ocean_ mist, not puddle mist.

Her tangent was interrupted when the telephone rang.

"_Salut_... _Comment t'appelle tu?_"

"It's Ava. Carmen, you need to come scrape your roommate off of our dorm room floor. He's getting on our nerves... We're pretty sure he's drunk. Either that or he's finally snapped."

"Erik, you moron..." Carmen sighed, "Okay, I'll be there in a minute."

Carmen hung up the phone and grabbed her shoes before heading to her friend's room. At least now she knew where Erik was.

Moments later, Jessica was ushering her into the room. It was blatantly obvious that something was seriously wrong with Erik. He was babbling incoherently about being all "twisty-minded" inside... whatever that meant.

"Oh Erik," Carmen sighed, placing her head in her hands, "What _have _you done to yourself?"

"Nufflin! Abslootly nuffling, m'lady!" he slurred.

"Bullshit!" she cried, "Look at you! You're completely wasted!"

"No... Dey might fine sum use fer me yet..."

"Just shut up before you say something dumb and make me mad."

With that, Erik began to laugh madly. It was a strange, drunken, humorless laugh that Carmen couldn't help but despise.

"There he goes again..." muttered Jessica. "Carmen, take care of your buddy and get him out of here..."

"Will do, Jessie... sorry about this, guys."

"Don't call me Jessie."

"Well I can't call you 'ica', now can I?"

"No." Jessica shut the door, leaving Carmen in the hall way with Erik, who could hardly stand on his own and was swaying dangerously. She pulled one of his muscular arms over her own shoulders so she could help him stand.

"Lemme go!" he murmured, trying to stand on his own, but swaying into the wall instead.

"No can do, Erik. You act like an idiot, I treat you like an idiot..."

Erik let out a drunken moan that was probably supposed to mean something along the lines of 'Would you rather I punjab you or throw you in the torture chamber?'.

It was a relief to be back in the room again. At least in here, there was little risk of their being noticed. Erik was at the keyboard now, playing a piece that Carmen didn't recognize. It was already a dark-sounding song, but the added dissonance created when Erik's drunken fingers missed the keys made it sound simply demonic.

She wanted to know so many things... Where had he gotten alcohol? Why had he drunk so much? In fact, why had he drunk at all? Obviously, she was not going to get any answers out of Erik now. She would have to wait until tomorrow, when she could exploit his hangover and force a reply out of him...

* * *

The next morning was anything but pleasant. Carmen woke to the sound of Erik retching himself inside out, and Erik... well, he was, you guessed it, retching himself inside out!

"Well Erik,"Carmen said when he came out of the bathroom, "You've been throwing up all morning. That can only mean one thing... you're pregnant!"

Erik didn't laugh... party pooper! Instead, his response was to curse at her and crawl back into bed.

"You want an asprin or something?" she offered. There was no way she was going to get any answers out of him when all he did was barf and sleep and swear...

"Please!" came Erik's reply, muffled by the pillow he was currently burying his head in.

"Well too bad." Carmen snapped, "You get nothing until I get answers!"

"Or until I get up and get it myself."

"Good luck reading the labels. I hope you don't the wrong pills..."

_Damn! _Erik thought bitterly. She'd called his bluff. Actually, he'd already tried to take pain relievers, and had run into that exact problem... he hadn't even been able to tell which medicine cabinet was the right one, nonetheless which _pill_ he should be taking!

"Asprin first. Questions after..." he muttered.

"No."

"Sadist!"

"Whatever Erik. Call me whatever you like, I won't give you anything until you tell why you're like this!"

"You know very well–!"

"No, why did you get drunk in the first place!"

"Well, _mother_!" he snapped, "I was confused and I couldn't take it anymore!... If you must know!" Erik wasn't exactly shouting, as shouting would have made his head go spinning out of control, resulting in nothing more than another unpleasant trip to the loo, but he was coming awfully close... Why couldn't Carmen just let him be! Wasn't this dreadful headache that interfered so badly with his ability to think straight punishment enough!

"Okay," Carmen said softly, apparently frightened by his sudden anger. "But where did you find alcohol, anyways?"

"I am not some misbehaving child, Carmen!" snarled Erik dangerously.

"Of course not." she said, seeming to agree with him wholeheartedly, "You're a misbehaving adult!"

_Point taken_, Erik thought. Of course, he would never had said that aloud... Instead, he said, "Interestingly enough, it was conveniently placed in _your_ closet! What are you hiding!"

Carmen gasped. _Her_ closet? But... she'd never bought alcohol before in her life! "No... You're lying!"

"I am an excellent liar,my dearsadist. In fact, I've made a veritable career of it, and apparently, someone has even taken the time to write a novel about my lies and what became as the result of them! If I was, in fact, lying, rest assured that my reply would have been far more biting, as words are currently the only way I am capable of gaining my revenge upon you for withholding that damned asprin from me in my hour of need!"

"Fine!" Carmen strode angrily into the bathroom and returned with the bottle of Tylenol PM. "Actually, this'll be better. It has sedatives so you'll be able to just sleep it off." The sooner Erik was asleep, the better. Carmen was far too angry with him to carry on her interrogation without hauling off and smacking him!

Erik didn't care if Carmen was angry. He had sedatives! He was triumphant! He was... incredibly tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep, or at least, not yet. Instead, he just closed his eyes. His head hurt less when he couldn't see the room spinning like a kaleidoscope all around him.

* * *

Carmen turned to see that Erik had already fallen asleep. The medicine had taken effect much quicker than she'd expected.

Asleep, Erik was impossible to stay angry with. He looked so much... simpler when his eyes were closed and his features relaxed, and yet, he still looked distantly sad.

"Oh, Erik..." she sighed, sitting down and brushing a stray hair out of his face, "Why do you have to do this? I wish you could just be happy for once... Just move past her, Erik. You deserve to live... but you'll never be able to if you keep dwelling on Christine." a tear slid down Carmen's cheek and landed on Erik's lips. She prayed it would not be enough to wake him. "You can be happy without her... How can I make you see that?"

When Erik was awake, Carmen had always carefully avoided the subject of his past. She would have been able to say what she'd just said to Erik while he was awake... never. She wasn't bold enough. Asleep, Carmen was going to tell him everything she'd wanted to tell him for weeks, everything she'd compiled about herself... But she would have to make it, short sweet, and to the point.

Nervously, she knelt down and kissed Erik's unmasked cheek. "Goodnight, Erik." she said, so quietly it was barely a whisper. "I love you."

* * *

Erik's eyes had been closed, perhaps, but all the evidence he needed was right there... the salt tear that lingered on his lips, yes, it had to be a tear. He knew the taste of tears better than he knew any food... But more so, in the feeling of her lips on his cheek. She'd kissed him... of her own accord... no fop tied to the door... no angsty trios... of her own free will...

Her own free will...

Her own...

Free...

The Tylenol finally took it's full effect on Erik, and he drifted off into the first pleasant sleep he'd had in a very long time.

* * *

So, what d'ya think? Once again, please don't kill me for the freakishly long time it took me to post this. I'll make it up to you with a nice, speedy chapter twelve. I probably won't start on it tonight, as it's one in the morning and I'm slapping myself to stay awake as it is, but I'll get a jump on it bright and early tomorrow morning, savvy? 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Ah! I think I'm turning into Leroux phantom! Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Need food! Need sleep! I want my nose back, damn it all! GIVE ME BACK MY NOSE! Hehe. Two hours of sleep every night for three weeks... Apparently, one needs more sleep in one night than I've gotten all this week. I am pathetic... and I have no one to blame it on!

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! The Kay novel is finally MINE! ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHAHAH! That's why this update wasn't as speedy quick as I originally intended. I had to tear myself away from Erik's tragically awesome past! Lenis has a new favorite book! Yes she does! I've read Nadir's part at least three times now... And to the ending: HAHA! In your stupid, foppy face, Raoul! In your face! points and laughs at Raoul... who begins to cry

Ah yes, and I'd like to apologize in advance for the crappyness of the first part of this chapter. I've written it, re-written it, edited it, revised it, re-edited it... in fact, that's the other reason this wasn't up a day after chapter eleven! I re-wrote the beginning no less than five times... and I still hate it! At least it's better than it _was, _though! Thank heaven for that!

Ah yes! It's very important to acknowledge Nota Lone for this chapter! The "this one's less of a Fop" line is entirely hers! She suggested it to me way back in chapter... um... three or four or something! I don't really remember! Thanks so much!

**Sandra: **I'm such a bad person! Chapter 12 was anything but speedy! I deserve to be beaten senseless!

**MJ-Skywalker: **Ahh! Noooooooo! Not the squirrels! Run away!

**kim sparrow: **There are plenty more juicy ones where that came from... take this chapter, for example...

**Synchiro Kagemoru: **And I'd probably drop dead without awesomely encouraging reviews like yours! What a wonderful symbiosis this makes! And exclamation marks are good! Good! Good! Good!

**Gothamin/Gothi/Avateine/Ava/G, and Gothamin: **hiss Mine! Mine! Mine! And the Kay novel... mine too! They are mine... my own... my precious!

**horsegal: **I'm glad you like it!

**Marianne Brandon: **Yeah, Stella summoned Erik as part of her qualifications to gain a higher rank in her cult (don't ask me where the heck I come up with stuff like that)... I think it's in chapter two. I just can't see a new relationship coming too quickly for Erik... The whole Christine thing just cut him too deep. I just love writing stubborn banter... I can't help myself :-D

**friend5: **Yay! I need a happy room with padded walls! Boing! Boing! Yes, of course it's a Carmen/Erik fic!

**AJNemo: **Oui! I love the idea of drunken Erik...don't ask me why

**Neko: **I feel so bad! Me and my blasted slow updates!

**Diana-Lupin: **Mwahahah! Let operation forget-Christine-ever-happened commence! Yes, a phan, but not quite psychotic enough to scare the bejeezus outta poor Erik! That's Carmen!

**Gem: **I'm glad you liked the randomness. I was worried that people would just look at it and be like... WTF!

**Misty Breyer: **Merci! I am rather proud of the ocean mist thing... I was looking at my shampoo one day, but I just could figure out what the heck ocean mist was supposed to smell like... It made me laugh, and thus, into the PhanPhic it goes!

**Celestia Memora: **Yay! I love Spongebob! The movie kinda freaked me out, though...

**Affirmed Hope: **Throws self on the ground I am undeserving of a speedy review! That was like, the slowest update ever... well, not quite, but it wasn't speedy at all! I'm sorry! I lose!

**raoulisafop: **What does he do, you wonder? You shall just have to read and find out.

**Moon Avenger: **pouts I've got a really icky sore throat, now... I think Erik might have taken my immune system with him when you stole him again... sobs Come on! I treat him really, really nice in _this_ chapter! Please?

**Solecito: **Not you too! Moon Avenger already steals Erik on a regular basis! Every time Erik is stolen, I get sick again... of course, I'm _always_ sick in the summer mutter mutter. Anyways, I like randomness, but I doesn't quite fit with the way I'm writing this particular story, so that's why there isn't as much of it. I've got one in the making, though, that you should like... completely and utterly random!

**Ridel: **Not all of their attempts will backfire... but plenty of them do! After all, if they were complete failures, I would lose my main conflict... and my awesome ending (shhh... I said nothing! Nothing, I tell you!)

**Lauren: **Writing more, writing more, lalalalalalala! Hey, what's up with the random "I" at the end of your review?

**TheWhitePrincess1: **No starving the poor children! Bad! Aww... bunny plushie!

**LaRoseDeSoleil: **I'm so glad you read! I hate it when my characters get all stupid and Mary-Sueish (I have a second cousin named Mary-Sue... totally random comment)

**angel718: **Sure, of course I'll review your story!

**Erik's Chris: **Believe me, there will be arguments... but they need an actual relationship before I can stress it to death cackles madly

**Olivia N.: **Wow. You rock! I think my ego just quadrupled in size! B-D You get a hug! hugs P.S. You don't have to beg. I love writing this story!

**miss insane: **Getting in trouble, are we? wags finger naughty, naughty... Eh! Who am I kidding? Read away!

* * *

Chapter 12: Attack of Zee Fluff!

Erik did not wake until early the next morning. He could hear Carmen rummaging around, but he wasn't really listening. Should he tell her what he'd heard?... No, best to wait until he knew, once and for all, how he felt... And she'd kissed him of her own free will! Okay, so that had nothing to do with his current train of thought, but he simply couldn't stop himself from dwelling on that gleeful thought. True, he'd always found Carmen extremely attractive, but did he _love_ her? For the life of him, he just couldn't seem to figure it out!

While he still didn't know how to react, he _did_ know that she'd been right. Well, mostly right, at least. He wasn't sure about whether or not he _deserved_ to live, but the fact remained that he was, in fact, alive, and there wasn't much he could do about it. Christine obviously wasn't coming back, particularly not when they were separated by just over a hundred years, so he really was destroying himself if he couldn't find it in him to move on... He'd known that before, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the actual _moving on_... it was far easier said than done. Perhaps he could be happy without Christine... If he could learn to love Carmen, did he still have a chance at his happily ever after? Would it even _be_ happily ever after without Christine!

All of his life, he had dreamed of having the love of a woman. As a child, it had been his mother. As an adult, it had been a wife, specifically Christine. Now that he had it, even if it wasn't Christine, could he really give it up? Carmen was the only person, he realized with a mixture of horrified disbelief and a massive upsurge of affection for the girl, that had ever dare to say those magical three words, 'I love you', to him... not Christine, not even his own mother!

_No!_ He had decided! He would not let this slip away! He would tell her how he felt... but not right now. Not after he had just given her such a show of exactly how stupid he really could be at times... Honestly, what had he been thinking! Letting himself drink like that! It was odd, though. He only remembered having a little to drink, just enough to give himself a bit of a nightcap and allow him to relax... He would have had to go on an absolute _binge_ to end up as drunk as he'd been the night before last!

But that didn't matter, he reminded himself, wrenching his thoughts back into place. He had planing to do! Somehow, he was going to arrange something that would create the proper atmosphere for him to explain to her that he'd heard her confess her love, and confess his _own_ feelings as well. He did not plan on making the same mistakes that he had made with Christine... Erik rarely made mistakes, and when he did, he _never _made the same mistake twice. He was going to open and honest... none of this Angel of Music muck! He had to wonder, even now, if his complete honesty would have changed the outcome of those events... but it didn't matter! He was _moving on! No more thinking about that! _

Meanwhile, Carmen was on inspector duty. Erik had said the alcohol was in the closet, right? So there was no reason for it not to be there any longer...

Grabbing a flashlight as she opened the door, Carmen planned on making a thorough inspection of the place, but as it turned out, an brief glance was all it took. Out in the open, there was a bag, clearly foreign to her closet, and upon opening it, she realized it was full of "fine french wines". Now this, she thought, was rather eerie. Erik couldn't buy wine; he'd need identification, which he would not get until they were finished with the heaps of paperwork they'd gotten from the chief of police, and he couldn't have bought it off of the frat boys, who always seemed to have something they were willing to part with (for a price, of course), because they would never have anything so... classy. That left her with no obvious answer... could she trust Erik's word that he had simply found it there? It seemed far-fetched, perhaps, but it was not impossible, and as of now, it was the most plausible answer she could come up with...

She was suddenly started from her deep reverie when Erik spoke. She hadn't expected him to wake for at least another hour, so his speaking came as a great surprise.

"Good morning." he said, the air of a perfect gentleman both disturbing and refreshing her. "I feel I really ought to apologize for the past two days. My behavior has been, to say the least, inexcusable. I can only hope you will find it in you to pardon me.

_Erik?... Apologizing! _Carmen suddenly wondered if he'd developed a fever. He had never apologized before!... He hadn't _heard _her, had he? No, he couldn't have! He'd been sound asleep. It wasn't as though she was afraid of telling Erik that she loved him... that had never scared Carmen one bit. The real fear was that she would make his already turbulent love-life even more confusing, thus hurting him even more. She didn't want to hurt Erik, that much was for certain!

"I do, Erik. Anyone can make a mistake, even you."

The corners of Erik's mouth twitched. "You flatter me." he said, his newfound good humor displaying itself in his voice, "What do you want?"

Carmen laughed. "Not _all_ women reserve flattery as a form of manipulation... although if you would _like _to give me another lesson, I won't protest."

_Amazing,_ Erik thought to himself, _It's as though she's reading my mind!_ He'd been planning on giving her more lessons as the first part of his plan. He was going to drop little hints to her... make her _suspect_ that her feelings were reciprocated, but think she was merely flattering herself... before her came straight out and told her. Yes, Erik was sneaky... very sneaky indeed.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." Erik agreed. "What to sing..."

"Not _Des Ires_ again," Carmen pondered, shaking her head. "It's far too nice a day to be singing requiem."

"An aria, perhaps." he suggested, "Do you have any favorites?"

Carmen paused. Yes, she _did_ have a few favorites... _Think of me _and _Phantom of the Opera_, to name a few, but either of those would likely have plunged Erik's current awesome mood into the vast chasm of Christine-induced despair, and much as she hated to admit it, Carmen was deathly afraid to bring up the subject of Erik's past... How could she say anything to comfort him without making things worse? She knew other arias; she would simply have to choose another...

The lesson went, in Erik's opinion, extraordinarily well. Carmen had a truly lovely voice, with much of the purity that he had admired in Christine, but with a certain, slightly more authoritative quality that was uniquely Carmen. She did not sound like one that was easily manipulated, malleable to one's will and credulous enough to accept absurd assumptions without question. No, Carmen was undoubtedly much smarter than Christine had been, and perhaps that was what had made her so attractive to a man who had never shied away from a challenge... a man who was best motivated by looming "impossibility".

When the lesson was over, Erik looked up at his pupil. "You could be truly excellent, you know, under my instruction. Perhaps we ought to make these lessons a regular habit."

Carmen simply could not contain a singular squeak of delight. "Really?", she cried in joyous disbelief, "You would help me?"

"But of course. You must think me a most notorious talent-miser to assume that I would not!"

"Oh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you! You're the best phantom-buddy ever!" Carmen exclaimed, hugging Erik tightly around the waist.

"_Du rien!_" Erik croaked. "Now... I'd be much obliged if you would please allow your '_Phantom-Buddy_' to breathe, now!"

Carmen grinned sheepishly and let go of Erik. "Sorry," she muttered. "It's so fun to hug people..."

"I wouldn't know." said Erik grimly.

"That's it, Erik! Hug me!"

"I beg your pardon!"

"Hug me! It'll make you feel better, I promise."

Erik looked at her as though she were quite insane. True he _wanted_ to hug her... but could he? Was he ready? Oh, how he wanted to...

"Don't look at me like that! I'm being perfectly honest! You need to learn to hug–!" Carmen was cut short when Erik momentarily abandoned his impersonal barriers and enveloped her in his arms.

"You were right," he whispered into her ear, "I _do _feel better."

"Good. I hate it when you're sad like that."

Erik resisted the urge to say _"I know"_.

Before Erik had the chance to move away, Carmen deftly turned her stereo on with her foot, and changed the track until she found a waltz, hoping Erik would get the hint.

He got the hint.

"Would you look at that," he chuckled, "a waltz. Do you dance, Carmen?"

Carmen moved so that they were in proper waltzing position and smiled at him. "Since I was eleven." she said, happily following Erik's firm, yet gentle lead as they began to twirl about the annoyingly small room.

Erik was an amazing dancer; his cat-like grace made her dance instructors seem like drunken chimpanzees by comparison. Before Carmen knew it, they'd danced through three different waltzes. She was hopelessly trapped in his powerful gaze... They came closer and closer until their bodies were separated by mere inches.

_So much for _subtle _hints... _Erik thought as he led Carmen through a graceful twirl. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he could feel it's steady percussion in his eardrums. When they were back in closed position, he drew her steadily closer to him, at first subconsciously, but later more decisively. _This was it, _he told himself, _He was going to snap and tell her right now. Who needed preparation when fate had been so utterly provident? _

With half lidded eyes, he drew his lips closer to Carmen's. He wasn't sure about her, but he was beyond the point of self-containment. He _needed_ to tell her... He _needed _to kiss her.

When Erik drew closer, Carmen felt her blood begin to race. Yes, she loved him, and she desperately hoped that this meant he felt the same way... but this was a frightening new experience for her. Her parents had never really been the hands-on sort, preferring to leave her in the care of various nannies. They'd never kissed her before, and none of her stupid, high school relationships had lasted long enough for a first kiss --probably because she tended to scare the crap out of most males– , but the fact was... Carmen had never been kissed before... and quite frankly, she was scared out of her mind.

Frightened or no, she was determined not to shy away. She refused to hurt him like that!

"I–", Erik began.

Then the telephone rang on Carmen's desk, shattering the moment.

"I-I should get that..." Carmen stammered, breaking away from Erik to retrieve the phone. "H-hello?" she said shakily into the receiver.

Erik sat himself down on the sofa... what had he been thinking? She hadn't been ready for _that_! Even if she _did_ love him... he should never have tried to press her so quickly. Now, she would be frightened of him... just like everyone else!

"Erik... It's for you." Carmen said slowly, handing him the phone.

"Er... hello?" he said.

"Hey, Erik!" Jessica's voice came through the earpiece. "How's life?"

Erik raised an eyebrow, even if Jessica couldn't see him do so. "I was about to find out, but you interrupted it." he answered pointedly.

"Well that's a shame. So, Ava and I were wondering if we could borrow your title... you know... Phantom?"

"Why?"

"Well... the rats had a few little ratlets... and there's this one that's–"

"NO!" Erik interrupted her. "You are _not _going to name one of those disgusting little pieces of walking cat food after _me_!"

"Well technically, the word Phantom is public domain... We don't have to ask you at all. We just wanted to see your reaction... But anyways, it's an adorable little fuzzball, all black with white around his nose and eyes... you should come and see him!"

Erik sighed. Now that Carmen knew there were baby rats, he seriously doubted that he would have any choice in the matter.

He was right. Carmen had immediately insisted they go up and see the new rats. She seemed determined to ignore what had just happened, and for the moment, Erik was fully willing to do the same.

"Aww... It's cute!" Carmen cooed, picking up Phantom and stroking his downy fur. "How can you not like him, Erik?"

Erik studied his rodent impersonator with guarded interest. "Well, I will admit that he has excellent taste in role models... Fine, I'll hold the little bugger."

As soon as Phantom was set in Erik's hands, the tiny rat wasted no time running up his arm to sit smugly on his shoulder and nibble his ear affectionately. Well, he _had_ always had a way with animals.

"So?" prompted Ava, "You dying of bubonic plague yet?"

"No," Erik chuckled, "Actually, this isn't so bad at all... Let's see the others, then."

Ava pulled a little shoebox out of the closet and opened it. Inside were about seven tiny little balls of fluff. One ball of fluffy in particular caught Erik's attention... It was a rather ugly yellowy-brown color that reminded him of his mother's living room curtains... or perhaps the Vicompte's hair!

"I have an excellent name for this one." he exclaimed, picking up the Raoul-colored rodent. "...Raoul!"

This comment procured a snort of laughter from everyone in the room, including Phantom... but that might've just been a sneeze...

"Done!" cried Jessica, taking the rat from Erik. "I christen thee... Raoul!"

When they set Raoul back in the shoebox, Erik bent over to examine him... "Hmm..." he began thoughtfully, "I'm afraid this one is less of a fop..."

"Indeed!" Carmen agreed. Whatever premonitions she may have had about kissing this man vanished completely when she saw him laughing as he played with the baby rodent on his shoulder... It was good to see Erik so... carefree.

They spent another hour with Ava and Jessica, before heading back to their room for supper. Now that they were alone together... Carmen couldn't help but notice a guarded hunger in Erik's gaze. _That was it! _She decided. _It was time to satiate this once and for all!... For both of their sakes!_

"Erik?" she asked shyly.

Erik looked up to show that she had his attention. _This was it... She was going to ask what he had been about to do before the phone rang! He was going to feel like such an idiot!_

"I should have told you before, but I was too afraid... I love you." Then, without waiting for a response, Carmen swooped down and devoured his lips with a passion that had been building for weeks.

"You _did _tell me before." Erik said when they broke apart. "I wasn't asleep last night... You've cost me rather a lot of sleep these past few weeks, you know... I've been calling myself a fickle bastard into the early hours of the morning every night for weeks... but it hasn't done any good. I still love you."

Erik barely had time to get the words out before he lost his self control and plunged into another, deeply passionate kiss.

* * *

Grins I've been wanting to get that out of my system for weeks... but stupid camping trips and other distractions kept me from posting until now! I can safely assure you all that chapter 13 won't be up for another week or so, because my aunt is getting married, so I've got a wedding to go to, and then I have go camping (again!) for the rest of the week, so I won't have access to a computer...

Don't get me wrong, I like camping as much as the next person, but I'm getting very sick of it, very quickly!

Anyways, reviews make me oh so very, very happy... even if I'm being forced to camp!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Oopsies! I forgot the disclaimer on chapter 12... along with a bunch of other things... I'm getting really lazy! Don't sue me!

A lot of people were wondering about the inevitable fight over Christine. Don't worry! It will happen soon, people! And by soon, I mean either in the next chapter or the one immediately after it!

Well, I hope you all enjoy this chappie and the plot twisting it does! Yes, I'm too lazy to write any more of an author's note, so deal. Meh!

Guess what? There _is_ more author's note! This chapter has been EDITED! (Oooohh! Aahhhh!) I fixed the little mistake that Misty was kind enough to point out, and made Erik quite a bit nastier to his "poker buddies".

Disclaimer: I don't own it, okay!

**Marianne Brandon: **Ooh... cold shower... that sounds nice. Yeah, I know the kiss was a bit rushed. I'm kicking myself for it now, but If I hadn't gotten it in there (and my mind drew a blank as to how they were going to ease into it), it would have had to wait for another few chapters, and I do want to get this fanfic finished relatively soon... as I have another one that's dying to get out and onto the site.

**Sandra: **Yay! Huzza for "working"! That's how I get almost all of my chapters written during the school year! Perhaps you can have Phantom when the fic is over... for now, I need him for a bit of comic relief later on... But eventually, he's all yours, my friend!

**MJ-Skywalker: **Alas! Peace with our squirrely friends! I don't know what I did to deserve the torture of camping, but it must have been pretty friggin bad! Eight days of pain...Tango? I'm pretty sure the tango was after Erik's time, but he knows how to waltz, so he should learn quickly (by the way, I smack you for figuring out later events! Bad! Carmen _does_ teach him to tango later on!) A sequel? I don't think so, but they may very well end up in Erik's time... I haven't decided yet. If you want more of my stuff, though, I should tell you that after this, I plan on writing a more serious romance (still E/OC)... Ok, I really need to get on to other folk now... or this chappie will _never _be finished.

**phicaddictdpiratephantomprsnya: **You have an extremely long name, you know that? Thank you so much, so glad to hear you luv it! Savvy... awesome word, by the way! Gotta love Jack Sparrow-isms!

**des ires:** Huzzah for stubbornness! I'm quite the little mule at times, too! Yes, he is going to a doctor eventually, but I've been really slow about getting to that part... Well, to be truthful, it might end up on the cutting room floor, so to speak, in interest of not packing far too many events into the space of a month. Either way, it would be blasphemy (I think) to fix Erik's face... he'd lose his Erik-ness. As for Erik getting to keep Phantom, I dunno. He probably won't, for reasons currently known only to myself (ya'll get to find out at the end), but it's still a maybe... albeit a rather bleak one.

**phantomofthemusical:** No, I don't have any rats. Most of my friends do, though. I wanted one after my hedgehog died, but my parents said no... stupid parents! I agree! Writer's block deserves to be chucked in Erik's torture chamber!

**raoulisafop: **Merci! Merci! Thank Nota Lone for the foppy mouse bit, though. It was her brilliant idea! Not mine! (Hides from the vicious attack lawyers)

**Diana-Lupin: **Jessness? I'm confused... Wait! No! You aren't allowed to die! I shall recessitate you! Oh wait... I forgot how to do CPR! Bugger!

**potostfbeyeluvr: **Glad to hear it!

**DarkestDesire88: **I'll keep my eyes peeled! I've never lost a story before... Can't you just look on your profile under "stories authored" ?

**lost my sanity:** Aww.. I'm sorry. I hope the brats don't run you completely ragged! Your review made me laugh! Gold stars for you!

**horsegal: **Maybe she will eventually, when Erik isn't quite so tender about the whole Christine thing, though... so not for a really long time...

**Solecito: **Yay! Erik's back! And I haven't been sick in like, two weeks! I should throw a party! Yeah, the Kay novel has that effect on people... Don't you just love it to death? If you want Phantom, you have to wait until the fic is over ( i still need him...) And you have to share him with Sandra, okay?

**Affirmed Hope: **Oh no! You can't pass out! Haha! I shall wave smellingsalts at you! Avast! I've actually been calling Erik "phantom-buddy" amongst my friends for quite some time now... and I just decided to use it in the fic.

**Music Angel no. 24601: **Hang science! I want the pudding! I love pudding! Wha? Enjorlas? I'm confused... Oh well, that's nothing new.

**Orlandoroxmysox: **Here it is! Okay, no tapping the nails! Good! Right, defiantly not the best way to pass time... -twitch- I can't stand that sound...

**WhitePrincess1: **Gotta love the ratties! Okay, so here it goes, actually, you've got pretty much everything right, except that a few weeks don't go by. They kiss the evening after Carmen tells Erik the first time... got it now? Or did I just confuse you more?

**gorbash: **I'm glad you thought it was worth the wait... I still shouldn't have taken that long though... Thankfully, this chapter got up much, much quicker:-D

**Disgusted: **A mary-sue? You think so? Perhaps I should explain a few things. First off, it wasn't my original intent for Carmen to be any prettier than your average person, but if making her pretty would speed up a romance, then in the interest of time, it had to be done. She isn't beautiful, and if I've ever said that she was, I seriously need to go back and edit, because I never meant for her to be like that. As for being rescued by Erik, Carmen's only really gotten herself into one sticky situation, and yes, Erik did rescue her that once... well, I guess you could count the semi truck thing in chapter two as well, but Erik didn't really rescue her. However, Carmen has rescued Erik from various problems quite a few times, so I don't really think she fits the description of 'damsel in distress'. And yes, she has a voice to rival Christine's, but remember, she's a vocal music major, so she's got to be a good singer. Unlike most mary-sues I've seen, Carmen has an annoying tendency to be rather bossy and headstrong, and not to mention arrogant. You'll see a lot more of her bad side in later chapters, so I really do hope you'll continue to read. Maybe you'll change your mind about Carmen. And just to clarify real quick, Carmen is not based entirely off of myself (if she were, Erik would probably despise her). The only elements of myself that are actually a part of her anymore are bad characteristics.

**BONANZA: **Don't worry! No Erik ice cream! ... Although maybe he would make good ice cream. He definitely yummy enough! But I won't let Erik go soft (see this chapter). I just stole a smidgen of Erik's animal-loving character from the Kay novel, is all. Like I said in the author's notes, the Christine-battle is coming up soon (along with quite a lot of Erik being quite scary, actually... not melty at all).

**Olivia N. :**You make me happy!I'm so glad you like Carmen! See? I'm updating quickly this time! You get a hug for making me a happy, happy phan!

**DarogaDaae: **Ironically, I actually _am_ typing it up word for word! (Haha! That way I can keep it as long as I want without the stupid library taking it away!) I can send you what I've got so far, if you'd like. The ultimate husband-to-be, eh? You'll have to fight off the rest of the phans, though... myself included! CHARGE! Hahaha! I shall have zee Erik for my own! Mine, my own, my preciousssss:is trampled flat by the rest of the phans: ...Ouchies... You know, I really should make myself a but more acquainted with the world of anime... Inuyasha is the guy with the awesome pointy ears and a fluffy tail, right? And he's part demon? Am I right? Do I win? ...Or am I just pathetic...

**KorieHonshu: **Thankies! I love applause! As to what the witchie people do next... well, you'll just have to read this chapter and find out, now won't you? Because they're in there!

* * *

Chapter 13: Ganstas, Alarms Clocks, and A Nice Little Plot Twist

Carmen woke the next morning to find that she had fallen asleep on the futon, in Erik's arms. Erik was already awake, but he hadn't moved.

"Good morning," he said when he'd noticed she was awake, "I was wondering when you'd wake up..."

"Next time, just poke me or something. You don't have to sit there waiting for me to wake up..." she yawned. "Hey, what day is it?"

"Monday."

"Oh shit!" Carmen cursed, sitting up so fast it made her head spin. "I'm late for class!"

"No you aren't." Erik reassured her, stretching himself out on the futon, "It's only seven... Did you really think I'd let you oversleep?"

"You make an excellent alarm clock... Did you know that?"

Erik nodded. "Only I didn't actually wake you up, so in all actuality, I'm a terrible alarm clock."

"Shut up. It's too early for confusing logic. You're an excellent alarm clock, and that's that!"

Erik shrugged. "Perhaps it would be wise to be getting ready for classes? Or does the alarm clock brush teeth as well?"

"That'd be interesting..." said Carmen vaguely. "A toothbrushing alarm clock... I should make one."

"I'm afraid my mother beat you it, dear."

Carmen turned to face Erik. "What the heck?... Oh. I get it... That was pathetic."

"It was funny..." Erik said stubbornly.

"Pathetic."

"Funny."

"Pathetic."

"Alright, you know what? _You're _pathetic!" Erik said finally.

"You know," Carmen began, "I _am_ pathetic. Here I stand, having this remarkably second-grade argument with you, when there have to be a thousand better ways to spend my Monday morning."

"One such activity being..." Erik decided to humor her.

Carmen made no verbal response, just looked sidelong at him and winked before slipping into the bathroom to change.

_Stupid!_ Erik thought, _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _For someone who had once jokingly claimed to be 'romantically challenged', she certainly knew how to torture a man!

Erik waited until a cessation of thuds and rustlings told him that Carmen had finished changing before he crossed the room in three large steps and rapped on the door.

"Come in," Carmen said, "It's unlocked."

The door swung open, but Erik remained where he was, leaning against the doorframe. "You are a cruel, cruel woman." he said silkily. "You drop me a hint... and then force me to wait before I act on it? Do you have any idea what that kind of suspense _does_ to a man like me?"

"Exactly what I intended it to."

Carmen was squaring up to him... Erik had to admit, he rather liked her combative --almost controlling, but not quite– sexuality. For a moment, he understood exactly how Christine must have felt the first time he'd taken her down to his lair. She was showing him an entirely new and unknown world... not only the twenty-first century, but also the world one came into when one loved, and was loved in return.

"I hate waiting." he said, pulling her so close that the tips of their noses met.

"You're so impatient." Carmen teased. "Maybe I should just keep talking and make you wait even longer."

But Erik wasn't going to wait any longer and Carmen knew that perfectly well...

Their lips were still locked when the door swung open.

"Hey, Carmen-... um, am I missing something?" Both Ava and Jessica couldn't help but stare, dumbfounded, at the scene frozen by surprise before them. It was as though someone had paused a very romantic movie... only when you paused a movie, the characters didn't flush until they looked like oddly shaped tomatoes.

"Hah!" Ava cried, poking Jessica on the shoulder. "I told you they'd fall in love! Now pay up!"

"You really should learn to knock!" Erik snapped, having finally found his voice.

"We _did_ knock." Ava muttered. "What we failed to do, however, was wait politely to be let in... And Jessica! Ten bucks. In my hand. Now."

Grudgingly, Jessica pulled a ten dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it to Ava.

Carmen blinked. Her friends had been _betting _on her?

"Well anyways..." Ava continued. "You're going to be late for Voice if you don't get moving." she said, tossing Carmen her backpack, "Sorry, Erik. Knowledge calls."

"I suppose I'll live until this afternoon." Erik said sarcastically. Actually, he had every intention of making today a quite.. Profitable experience. It had recently dawned upon him that he was completely dependent upon Carmen for his every material need, and that thought was rather discomforting to the notoriously independent Opera Ghost...

* * *

"It didn't work, Damien." Stella muttered angrily, sitting herself down on his bed.

"I noticed!" Damien snapped, "Time is running out... the ceremony must be held on all hallows eve at midnight! If we cannot get the Phantom, we shall have to use another... and that would be an utter disaster!"

"And why would that be so terrible?" Stella wondered anxiously. "You've seen him, haven't you? Isn't that enough for you to name me master chaneller? What's so special about him?"

"Foolish woman!" Damien spat, turning abruptly to face her, "This is no longer about you irksome little promotion! Do you not see how perfectly suited he is to our purposes? According to records, this man doesn't exist! If we kill anyone else, there will surely be an investigation, and we, my dear, will surely be discovered! But if we kill the Phantom, there will be no one to speak of it except for some obscure, non-credible college student... and who would believe a tale as outlandish as the truth, I ask you?"

Stella swallowed. "No one... but if you have your proof, then why not just give me my title?"

There was a loud –CRACK– as Damien backhanded her across the face. His ring left a long gash on her cheek, but she would just tell everyone that she'd fallen down... again.

"Do you really think I want another master around to challenge my authority? You will _never _gain your rank so long as i have the power to prevent it!"

Stella felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she quickly turned her face away. She would not let _him _see her cry! "But you said it didn't matter to you! You said we would lead...together!"

"Pha! Did you really think that I would share my role? With the likes of _you_, none the less?"

Stella didn't answer... All she'd dreamed of for years– gone! How dare he lie to her like this! All those times he'd said he loved her– Were those all lies, too? Obviously, he'd just been using her to get his stupid sacrifice for him! Well, she wasn't going to help _him _anymore!

"FINE!" she screamed. "I'm out! You want your perfect sacrifice so badly? Well, you can get him yourself!"

Without waiting for a reply, she strode angrily towards the door, but Damien caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back so that she had no choice but to face him.

"Fine." he growled, his face only a few inches from hers, "go ahead and leave– It isn't as though I need you anymore anyways– but if you tell _anything _about what I'm doing to _anyone_, it'll be you on the alter instead of the Phantom... Understand?"

Stella nodded. She knew firsthand that Damien's temper was a dangerous thing to toy with, and she did not want to incur his wrath by jeopardizing his plans... even if she _did_ hate him!

Without another word, she jerked her wrist free, turned on her heel, and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

It was only then, when Stella was out of Damien's sight, that she could freely let the tears fall...

* * *

Erik had made up his mind. He was sick of his dependency on Carmen for _everything_. Today, he would accumulate some funds of his own. True, the legality of his plan to do so was debatable, but when had that ever stopped him before? No, he wasn't going to rob a bank or anything stupid like that... he was simply going to play a bit of poker... after all, how much could it have changed since his time?

Instinctively keeping to the shadows, he scoured downtown Cincinnati for a bar that look swarthy enough to have a high stakes poker table (because low stakes simply wasn't worth it...). When he reached the more crime-infested areas, they seemed to be in no short supply. He chose a larger establishment called "B-Lo's" and made his way to the back of the building, where he was pleased to see five men sitting around a table, staring pensively at their cards. A large pile of bills in the center of the table indicated the pot.

He watched them from the shadows as they played a few hands, learning the unique strategies of each player, before slipping his ring off his finger an tossing it onto the table.

"Mind if I buy in?" he asked, stepping out of the shadows.

There was a general rule about playing games of "chance" with a magician... _don't do it!_ After a mere five hands, Erik's amassed winnings came to a total of two-thousand, seven hundred, and fifty-eight dollars. Of course, winning five good hand in a row was also an excellent way of making some very dangerous enemies, so after that, he promptly exited the game before the other players became violent... Perhaps in the future he would consider playing chess instead. As he made to walk away from the table, one of the more built players grabbed him by the back of the shirk and pulled him back.

"Not so quick, Bones," he growled, "You don't think you can just waltz in here, win yourself a few real nice hands, and then just stroll outta here without giving us lesser players a few pointers, do you?"

"Just a bit of good luck, Gentleman, I assure you." Erik lied. _As if he'd tell them that he'd been using slight-of-hand to get the hands he'd wanted... or that he'd been gradually emptying the pockets of those who sat nearest him the entire time..._

"No, I don't think so..." the man said, shaking his shining bald head in a sort of steroid-induced disbelief and pulling Erik closer to him by his shirt collar. "I think it's that mask of yours. It must be giving you good luck... like Goliath's hair!"

Erik quickly assured the man that his mask was doing nothing of the sort. He had to fight very had to bite back the urge to point out that it had been _Sampson _who had gained his superhuman strength from his hair, not Goliath.

"Hey Lou!" cried a smaller man with a nasal voice that made Erik cringe. "Let's take it off... just to be sure he ain't lyin!"

"Sound's like a damn good idea to me... What'd you think, Bones? Sound like fun?"

Erik blanched. He should have known something like this would happen!

"I think–" he choked, "That you had best let me go immediately!" His fingers itched for a punjab... _Then _he could teach these morons why it was a very _bad _idea to tease the Phantom of the Opera!... But the memories of that one night he'd spent in jail kept him from strangling his attackers. After all, he was in a room full of witnesses -and he couldn't kill them all, obviously- and the police in this century were apparently a tinge more competent than the blundering _genderarmes_ of his time... and he didn't want to have to spent the rest of his days serving a life sentence with another sex offender... No, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Alright!" The man threw him against the wall, and Erik crumpled to the floor. The collision knocked the air out of his lungs, but otherwise left him unharmed. "So, what're you hiding under that mask, anyways?"

"Nothing! I am hiding nothing!"

"You know, I'm starting to think you aren't being too honest with me... I hate being lied to, especially by stupid, cheating little skeletons!"

There was a kick aimed at Erik's head, but he dodged it with ease. He quickly got up off the floor, but as he made to run another man grabbed him around the waist and ripped off the mask. With and angry shriek, Erik twisted free and wrapped his long fingers around the man's beefy throat, tightening his grip until he dropped the mask. He didn't care about consequences anymore! _No one_ took off the mask!

"Well, well." came a mocking voice on his left, "It seems I was wrong about you. You're no skeleton after all... You're obviously a corpse!"

Erik gave a feral growl and released the man who had taken the mask. One hand tightened around the man's throat while the other attempted to cover his deformities. "I'll kill you!... I swear it!" He let the hand covering his face drop down in case anyone tried to intervene. "Or at least I _could_ kill you. Presently, I shall not... unless you decide to further provoke me. Do not take me lightly, monsieur. For your own sake, I shall advise you that should you make that mistake, it will be your _last_... "

Still seething, Erik turned to face the other men, still without his mask.

"Well!" he demanded, "What're you all looking at!" he snarled, the tone of his voice dared anyone to answer. He had replaced his mask and was turning to leave, when the idiot that he had just very nearly strangled hit him hard on the good side of the face, and then again on the other side before he had time to recover himself. Almost reflexively, Erik went for the throat, hitting the man hard enough to render him unconscious in a matter of seconds. He no longer cared whether his actions would eventually cave in his windpipe and kill the man. In fact, he sincerely _hoped_ the fool died as a result! As far as Erik was concerned, he'd signed his own death warrant!

In the chaos that ensued from the man's collapse, he was able to slip out unnoticed by the rest of the men. He headed straight for the college campus, where he could sanctuary himself and perhaps clean himself up a bit before Carmen saw him and worried herself to pieces. He had to admit that, while he loved the lass, he couldn't help but find her constant underestimation of his ability to fend for himself quite irritating. Eventually, she would learn that he was a big boy, quite capable of staying alive without the safety and security of the dormitories... he hoped.

It took Erik quite a bit longer to find the college than he'd imagined, as he'd taken several wrong turns on his way back... after all, Cincinnati was still a fairly new city to him. When he finally _did_ get back to the dormitories, his foul mood had only increased in magnitude, and to make matters worse, when he threw open the door he found Carmen sitting inside the room, talking to a woman he had never met before. Normally, this wouldn't have been more than an annoyance to him, but the suitcase sitting near the new woman's feet gave him a funny feeling that she'd be staying with them for a while, and _that_ Erik was not entirely certain he could endure!

* * *

And thus ends lucky chapter 13 (hehe... I just noticed that... I win!)! So, happy reviewing to you all! Pleasey please? Oh yes, and I wrote I decent chunk of chapter 14 when I was camping (for utter lack of anything better to do except to sit around and do exactly what i do at home...), so I really have no excuse to take an incredibly long time to update, except that it's probably going to be a very, very long chappie, so maybe it _will_ take a while... I really don't know. 


End file.
